Fangs

She smells of Vegas
An eye for an eye
There’s blood upon his hands
From what he done last night
And in the white flame
He sees his soul
So he makes a toast
To the sky the sea and the road

How many highs
Till I climb through
And see my mind
How many highs
Till I climb through
And see my mind
How many highs
Till I climb through
And see my mind

A look of danger
A knife to a fight
He loves the way it looks
Not the way it bites
And when the smoke clears
A bold advance
And the mess was left for all the rest
To sink in sand

How many highs
Till I climb through
And see my mind

How many
How many
How many highs
How many
How many
How many highs