Sore Feet + Blisters

Come, step into the sunlight The parade is marching Up and down this ghost-town With sore feet and blisters From too much talk of nothing Step into the sunlight and say something Anything will do A great day/a long wait Alarm clocks screaming out loud A warning Streets like a chessboard We're checkmate and that is all Step into the sunlight and do something About this suicide view Come save me With your hands I'm pretty Pretty tired Of balancing on the edge of this knife