Cold - Tombs

Gotta close my mind

Gotta hold on tight

Gonna do it hard

Gonna do it right

Gotta close my mind

Gotta be so cold

'Til this bright, white heat

Gonna take it’s toll

Cold drifting real slow

Out in the street

And out of the dark

All in the light

Under the lamp

Where life gets ill

I’ve seen it all before

All this bright hoar

All the pretty living dead

Pretty egos to be fed

I’m glad that I

Just can’t care

So glad that it’s

Getting there

Talking real low sweet

Watching me real close

Make it seem so nice

When it’s just like ice

When it’s dead and gone

When it’s sucked so dry

When it’s black and cold

On this bright bright street

All the pretty living dead

Pretty egos to be fed

I’m glad that I

Just can’t care

So glad that it’s

Getting there

Gotta feel that way

Gonna end that way

So easy just to give it up

So hard to really care

Maybe I will fall

I have no hope at all

Then I’ll be no use at all

All this bright, white heat

Then I’ll be no use at all

All this bright, white heat

Then I’ll be no use at all

All this bright, white heat