The Fortress

Plastic snow in a globe made of glass
Settles low, model house, plastic grass

Don't look at the camera
The alarm is on
Pulling at the cannula when your arm is numb
You're frightened of the thoughts you get with your shaded friends
They tightened up the tourniquet as the haze descends

And if we balance all the forces we can arrange our symphonies
And with we barricade the fortress we can achieve some sense of peace

Plastic snow in a globe made of glass
settles low, model house, plastic grass
Spun around and a blizzard is formed
Scene's engulfed in a gathering storm



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