The means are right for taking, fade to grey

Trying to be ruthless, in the face of beauty

In this matrix, it's plain to see

It's either you or me.

Bruise,

pristine,

serene,

we were born to lose.

Cast a line with a velvet glove

Reading like an open book, in the hands of love

In this matrix, it's plain to see

It's either you or me.

Bruise,

pristine,

serene,

we were born to lose.

?encore? |echoed|

Means are right for taking, fade to grey

Trying to be ruthless, in the face of beauty

In this matrix, it's plain to see

It's either you or me.

Bruise,

pristine,

serene,

we were born to lose.