Chops

How do we want it Desires always strange Yellow coffin Doesn't that seem strange-ay-ange I never knew that You could see colors from the grave I guess that's just the consequence of fame I'm pulling you closer (Fame) I'm drawing you near (Fame) The dark walls surround us (Fame) I'm sensing your fear These aren't our ghost stories Only our proclamations of the game Touch it or take it I don't need you to be laughing in vain There aren't our ghost stories Only our proclamations of the game Touch it or take it I don't need you to be laughing in vain How do we want it? Desires always change A senile prophet Doesn't that seem strange I always knew that Disbelieving all the hearsay Would be the consquence of fame I'm pulling you closer (Fame) I'm drawing you near (Fame) The dark walls surround us (Fame) I'm sensing your fear These aren't our ghost stories Only our proclamations of the game Touch it or take it I don't need you to be laughing in vain There aren't our ghost stories Only our proclamations of the game Touch it or take it I don't need you to be laughing in vain