Like Moths To Flames
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The Art of Losing

Like Moths To Flames

The Dying Things We Live For


If it wasn't for this bad luck that hangs up over my head
I'd have no luck but maybe once I'd hope for the best
What would it take to change my expiration date?
Sick of borrowing time
I will never repay

There's an art to losing every single thing you love
Where do you turn when all you're left with is bad blood?

Is this what it's like, to be put back on the shelf?
Left to collect the dust of someone else
The light in the back of the tunnel quickly fades to black
Seasons change as I'm left in the past

There's no home sweet home
when you're sinking underneath like a stone
Sinking down, sinking down alone
There's no home sweet home

Nothing left to believe in
Everything I know is slipping away
Right down the drain
Is this all in vain?
Nothing left to fight for
Every new chance brought another door
slammed in my face
Yet I still came back for more

Too stubborn to swallow my pride
Afraid to admit that I've been set aside
Taken out of the limelight

What would it take to change my expiration date?
Sick of borrowing time that I will never repay

There's an art to losing every single thing you love
Where do you turn when all you're left with is bad blood

Is this what it's like, to be put back on the shelf?
Left to collect the dust of someone else
The light in the back of the tunnel quickly fades to black
Seasons change as I'm left in the past

There's no home sweet home
when you're sinking underneath like a stone
Sinking down, sinking down alone
There's no home sweet home

Nothing left to believe in
There's nothing left
Nothing left to fight for
There's nothing left

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