Failure Songtext
von Martin Sexton

Friday night after the traffic dies down
You and I get to sittin′
In a room where nobody makes much sound
Just the whispering of petitions

With my heart I speak first
And I do my best to listen


I wait for your fiery tongues
In a room where nobody makes much sound
Just the whispering of petitions
Hearts in their wait for reply
You fast so shall you be given
Though your thoughts run dry
Don't give up the night
In the end what is best shall be given

Here my beloved sits
In the golden sunlight
Humble flesh and blood

In a room where nobody makes much sound
Just the whispering of petitions

And hearts in their wait for reply
You fast now shall you be given
Though your thoughts run dry
Don′t give up the night
In the end what is best shall be given

Though your thoughts run dry
Don't give up the night
In the end what is best shall be given


What is best shall be