Here shall we live in this terrible town. Where the price for our eyes shall squeeze them tight like a fist. And the walls shall have eyes. And the doors shall have ears. But we'll dance in the dark. And they'll play with our lives. Like a slow burn. Leading us on and on and on. Like a slow burn. Turning us round and round and round. But who are we. So small in times such as these. Slow Burn. Slow Burn. Oh these are the days. These are the strangest of all. These are the nights. These are the darkest to fall. But who knows?. Echoes in tenement halls. Who knows?. Though the years snare them all. Like a Slow Burn. Leading us on and on and on. Like a Slow Burn. Twirling us round and round and upside down. There's fear overhead. There's fear overground. Slow Burn. Slow Burn. Like a Slow Burn. Leading us on and on and on. Like a Slow Burn. Turning us round and round and round. And here are we. At the center of it all. Slow Burn. Slow Burn.