Modus Operandi

A dead end
And old set of rules
The used ones trying to find a way out of prostitution
With paralyzed tongues and stimulated limbs
Under hostile fire right until you’ve reached the border just to be shot at
again
No one will hear our goodbye
Think about the mess you’ve left
Now let’s sum up the old vows and finally break them all at once
A theory
A poor choice of words
An outrage
An insult so severe you can almost hear their teeth grind
Being put to bed or being put to sleep?
The difference is faced with indifference
So cut them loose and I’m sure that they won’t know what to do
No one will hear our goodbye
Think about the mess you’ve left
Now let’s sum up the old vows and finally break them all at once
And you find yourself in front of a wrong crowd, so be it
We known them all too well
They love the sound of big words, you know?
They’re used to sympathize
Yes, they’re used to spins and shifts
They love to hear big words, you know?
They’re used to socialize
Yes, they’re used to spins and shifts
No one will hear our goodbye
Think about the mess you’ve left
Now let’s sum up the old vows and finally break them all at once