Half a week before the winter. The chill bites before it comes. And I'm a child of the pleasure. That he brings before he runs. He sits behind a desk of majogany. He whispers dreams into my ear. And though I've given him his empire. He delivers me my fear. The unicorns are riding high. Powerful in coats of white. I turn to look but burn my eyes. I carry on I carry all the weight of empty promise. As I stand swallowed by the light. Flickering above the highway. I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight. The vampires are growing tired. The coats of white all turn to red. My heart burns with desire. I carry on I carry on. The unicorns are riding high. Powerful in coats of white. We turn to look and burn our eyes. I carry on I carry. The vampires are growing tired. The coats of white all turn to red. My heart burns with desire. I carry on I carry on. I carry on. I carry on. We carry on