Rasp Steel

(mhm, yeah)

Cold hands, quiet street

Dusty boots on concrete

Watch the smoke rise high

Underneath a heavy sky

And you know we're running thin (ahhh)

But we're never giving in

Cut the wire, break the mold (yeah) Trading silver for the gold

Sharp teeth, biting cold

Keep the fire, never fold

Flicker of a dying match

Latching onto what we catch

No regrets, no alarms

Resting in these iron arms Cut the wire,

break the mold (oh yeah) Trading silver for the gold

Sharp teeth, biting cold

Keep the fire, never fold

Never fold

(mhm) Sharp and cold