Cold Frame

Cold glass,

black ink, drifting away

We don't talk about

the price

we pay Sitting in the back seat,

staring at the rain

Living in a gold cage,

hiding all the pain

Every single promise wash down the drain (ooh-ooh-ooh)

Lost in the high life,

lost in the sky (yeah)

Cold glass,

black ink,

drifting away

We don't talk about

the price we pay

(we don't talk about it)

Stacking up paper, it don't heal the soul

Out in the freezing,

we lost all control

(lost it all)

Cold glass, black ink,

drifting away

We don't talk about

the price we pay

(ooh, the price we pay)

Drifting away... (away)