End Game

I've been looking out for zero since I don't remember when
Praying not to draw that same old blank again

But it seems at last time passing tears your paper shield apart
And love, the silver bullet, leaves its shrapnel in the heart

M'dame, M'sieur, les jeux sont faits



Credits
Writer(s): David Harley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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