Architects - Sound of Guns

Time drowns like a machine, caught between the tide

Twisted anglers drift below

Pressed like the pins in a man, dressed in single file

Walking places you won’t go With your hands

built with your hands, slowly

Your hands we won’t slip

We are the Architects

We are the Architects

We are the Architects

We are the Architects

Sunk in the soap full of sand, while they dream away

Watch this desert take them home

Eyes cast out like a spell, drugged by new design

What’s the view like from your head

With your hands

built with your hands, slowly

Your hands, we won’t slip

We are the Architects

We are the Architects

We are the Architects

We are the Architects

We hold down

We hold down

We hold down

We hold down