I'm writing reports of the days and the nights
locked up for years in a measure of mind
when with a net of nothing I was trying to catch the motions of a mind
and the methods of a crime

I never saw the chance and never what I held in my hands

the lights are all red in this town
where I'm killed by exhausts and alcohols that dry out my skin
I never had a clue of the role that I played
but that's the condition and the price that we pay

I never saw the chance and never what I held in my hands