Intro: (x2) So sharp these little knives, How sweet that sounds of yore. They cut me out of life, built this Trojan horse. That shit don't even hurt, tickles like a feather. I'm a space between the lines, and even this shall pass. Fading Gloomy June. And I break against your walls, there's nothing there to grapple. Come rattle in my heart, and shoot away my apple. My head didn't ever move, tired I stayed open. I'm a space between the lines, and even this shall pass. Fading Gloomy June. I set fire to your trees, looking for some action. No dice, no jamboree. Ain't got no Bristol fashion. Well, that shit don't even hurt, tickles like a feather. I'm a space between the lines, and even this shall pass. Fading Gloomy June. So sharp these little knives, How sweet that sounds of yore. I'm a space between the lines, and even this shall pass. Fading Gloomy June.