Men are waiting patiently;
Remove me from the scene,
A sea of faceless souls in suits.
A sight for eyes, like thumbs;
Sore, crooked, and bow and foul relief.
You! Have!
You have been exposed.
Your eyes speak well of you.
They play my requiem
to a closed-casket burial.
Your conspiracy;
Conspiring to deliver me to the authorities.
I have been betrayed so graciously.
My bloodhounds are hooked on a trail of ink
Which led me to the words you scribbled down;
{An} obituary dedicated to me.
{I} might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine.
Your fingers are star-crossed lovers that can't seem to get enough of each other.
This pantomime dialect doesn't practice what you preach,
doesn't practice what you preach.
Venona Video (MV)
The Receiving End Of Sirens - Venona Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Men are waiting patiently;
Remove me from the scene,
A sea of faceless souls in suits.
A sight for eyes, like thumbs;
Sore, crooked, and bow and foul relief.
You! Have!
You have been exposed.
Your eyes speak well of you.
They play my requiem
to a closed-casket burial.
Your conspiracy;
Conspiring to deliver me to the authorities.
I have been betrayed so graciously.
My bloodhounds are hooked on a trail of ink
Which led me to the words you scribbled down;
{An} obituary dedicated to me.
{I} might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine.
Your fingers are star-crossed lovers that can't seem to get enough of each other.
This pantomime dialect doesn't practice what you preach,
doesn't practice what you preach.
Remove me from the scene,
A sea of faceless souls in suits.
A sight for eyes, like thumbs;
Sore, crooked, and bow and foul relief.
You! Have!
You have been exposed.
Your eyes speak well of you.
They play my requiem
to a closed-casket burial.
Your conspiracy;
Conspiring to deliver me to the authorities.
I have been betrayed so graciously.
My bloodhounds are hooked on a trail of ink
Which led me to the words you scribbled down;
{An} obituary dedicated to me.
{I} might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine.
Your fingers are star-crossed lovers that can't seem to get enough of each other.
This pantomime dialect doesn't practice what you preach,
doesn't practice what you preach.