Five thirty-seven,
And I´m back here again,
I can´t remember how it feels to feel something.
Wait for the deadlights,
And put the cold back on,
Surrender to silence when the silver´s gone.

Every night it´s down to this,
The Zenith of hope to Angel´s last kiss.
Every night it´s down to this,
Just giving up and giving into emptiness.

If only I could still be someone you believed in.

At five past Eleven,
It all fell into place:
Viva deception and the final throes of grace.
I´m sick for the starlight,
So let´s hit the floor,
Surrender to silver before the silence falls.

Every night it´s down to this,
The Zenith of hope to Angel´s last kiss.
Every night I can´t resist,
Just giving up and giving into emptiness…
Is there nothing left?

If only I could be someone you believed…