Poets of the Fall "The Game" lyrics

The Game

She's plasticShe's speed-readA classic line between the linesFantastic and half-deadHis tactic blind to warning signsHer clashes of colorsAre flashes of societyIn ashesHis dollars like posters of a tragic love story

See the puppet master laughAstride a pale horseAnd take another photographFor selfie intercourseReading out the epitaphOf our pointless warsFor love we will tear us down

He's shooting at shadowsPortraying a proper soldier boyShe's thinking in logosStill searching for the real McCoyBroadcasters, they've got thisDisasters a wasp of a satireLike actors who French kissRight after someone stole their fire

See the puppet master laughAstride a pale horseAnd take another photographFor selfie intercourseReading out the epitaphOf our pointless warsFor love we will tear...

Us down that beaten path she treadsMirage the blushing bride he wedsYesterday's diamonds and pearlsNow worthless trinkets in their worldThe salty tang of bloodSensations running hotSnow blindness in pitch darknessMindless rageAnd then you...

See the puppet master laughAnd take another photograph

See the puppet master laughAstride a pale horseAnd take another photographFor selfie intercourseReading out the epitaphOf our pointless warsWhen loveLove could be our crown

Here one can find the lyrics of the song The Game by Poets of the Fall. Or The Game poem lyrics. Poets of the Fall The Game text.