When the world has turned, paralyzed and wrong; cold blooded claws never offered anything at all. Past the point of love, shattered and united – waiting to pick up the pieces that make it all alright. Moonlight on my floor, shining through the roof. They got the city surrounded, as if I needed proof. I forgot my fear, feelings on the rise. Burying all of the pieces falling from the sky. But pieces of what? Pieces of what, pieces of what. It doesn't matter anymore.