Console me in my darkest hour Convince me that the truth is always grey Caress me in your velvet chair Conceal me from the ghosts you cast away
I ain´t in no hurry You go run and tell your friends I´m losing touch Fill their heads with rumors of impending doom It must be true
Console me in my darkest hour And tell me that you always hear my cries I wonder what you´ve got conspired I´m sure it dawns a consolation prize
I ain´t in no hurry You go run and tell your friends I´m losing touch Fill the night with stories, the legend grows Of how you got lost
But you made your way back home You sold your soul Like a Roman vagabond, yeah
I heard you found a wishing well in the city Console me in my darkest hour Then you throw me down
I ain´t in no hurry You go run and tell your friends I´m losing touch Fill your crown with rumors Impending doom It must be true
But you made your way back home You sold your soul like a Roman vagabond And about how you got lost But you made your way back home You went and sold your soul An allegiance dead and gone