Preacher's Ego Testo

Past the bouncers, ropes, and doors,Saturday does its dance floor chores
everywhere in pairs;
But on the sides in their chairs...
They'll sit there in contempt of self
forever having dreamt...
If sorrow wouldn't follow the night's events,
then it would be different.
The highs and lows...
The highs and lows...
Sunday sleepy people...
Satiate your preacher's ego.
Repentant sins, and spirits cleansed...
Through the doors to be dirtied again;
They'll sit there in contempt of self,
forever having dreamt.
If sorrow wouldn't follow the night's events,
then it would be different.
The highs and lows...
The highs and lows...
The highs and lows...
'Cause sorrow always follows the night's events,
when will it ever be different?