No longer will they concern themselves with that aging stew
They only sit, watching and waiting, for the rest of their spectacles
Sections of that tenement are rotting, the earth will not chew.
But She drags herself up those stairs everyday
And He refuses to ever leave the room
She asks him, "Are we going to stay?"
He tells her, "The gates open at half past noon."
So it goes, they finally walked out
On the roof, the rest of the tenement was staring at the gun
On the outside, they are thankful for doubt
Not long after, that tenement melted in the heat of the sun
In our minds, We are fighting a war
Who are you fighting for?
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