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• Artiste: Sundays (The)
• Titre: Blood On My Hands
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When people say it's sad, you know it can't be bad and on any other day I'd be soul destroyed but now I can't afford to listen to a word they say. And of all the times we had, oh, the ultimate late night, didn't taste right, true words that I should know. Blood on my hands, when you looked around I couldn't be found. A crime's a crime, I'll have to pay. Now I find that I'm thigh deep, too young for the worst of my mind, you whispered behind me, "if I may make so bold." Call it young and wild but I ran a mile in a minute and there's no going back. True words that I should know. Blood on my hands, when you looked around I couldn't be found. A crime's a crime, I'll have to pay. True words I said to myself as the wind chilled my bones. "Home alone, you call that a late night?" When people say you're dead, you know you caught their eye and on any other day I'd be soul destroyed but that's just not the way now. I don't mind telling you nothing is quite what it seems. True words that I should know. Must have been blood on my hands, when you look around I couldn't be found. A crime's a crime but I don't mind, true words that I should know well but surely by now I could say to myself, "the days are getting longer so I better get stronger fast" surely by now?