Like a calendar in a coma ward,
the chill runs in a straight line.
A brisk blizzard wind pulls it in.
Never could a wave of distress
Calm the nerves of the willing
and end the thoughts of the daring.
Perry and strafe the edge of reason.
Razors edge and a day ends.
Razors edge and a day ends.
Razors edge and a day ends,
and an alibi awaits.
Pushed to the edge of caring,
a nightless sleep forthcoming.
Foreboding and shadows run deep,
but shallow runs the razors edge.
But shallow runs the razors edge.
