I
knew
this
would
happen
and
I
don't
want
to
be
around
when
it
gets
out.
I've
closed
the
last
picture
and
painted
the
windows
inside
and
out.
Give
me
your
dreams
and
I'll
give
you
my
time,
together
we'll
cross
the
borderline.
Voices
-
cracking
the
night,
voices
-
that
cut
like
a
knife,
voices
-
hear
them
singing...
From
sparks
to
the
fire,
from
here
to
obsession
they
cover
the
end.
Twisting
a
match
and
see
the
reflections
of
hunters
of
men.
Give
me
your
dreams
and
I'll
give
you
my
time,
until
we
make
it
to
the
borderline.
Voices...