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.