i don't feel itni don't feel it anymorenthe city drowns itselfnheard the sirens from the shorenni won't suffer thisni won't suffer this for younfields of orchids burnnand left here standing, frozen throughnnyour starnnthrough the scarsnnthrough the scarsni'll find your light againnndreamingnit's cheap as apathynthe future atrophiesnthe more i dreamnnstill i crawl inside your gravenfor those lost november daysnnyour starnthrough the scarsnthrough the scarsni'll find your light again