The Exiles

You're playing with matches

Got paper cuts from paper blades

And endless majesty within the patter of the rain

Your hatred is weakness

Your carelessness is no mistake

There's no stupidity within the chances that you take

And it feels like endless night

And it feels like jealous rage

Setting all the clothes alight

I am burning

I'm still burning

All our horses have been shot

All our races have been played

Setting fire to paper planes

I am burning

I'm still burning

You show me the exiles with paper cuts and paper blades

There's endless majesty within the chances that they take.

And it feels like endless night

And it feels like jealous rage

Setting all the clothes alight

I am burning

I'm still burning

All our horses have been shot

All our races have been played

Setting fire to paper planes

I am burning

I'm still burning

(I'm still burning.)

Setting fire to paper planes

I am burning I'm still burning...

I'm still burning...