Cold city. When I stroll your naked heart I see
the children crawling to an empty box to sleep.
They drink the morning dew with their dry lips
While the city plans a day filled with con games.
Cold city, I am planning your destruction, I am planning
To cut out the arrogant brain that you penetrate me with,
Leaving a gaping place for the chilled wind.
I dream of your ruin and will dance when I hear far away,
That you have suffered as I have suffered.