Hem of the Fray
No one is coming for you
In this budget hotel
In this makeshift saloon
On this highway to hell
No one is coming for you
On this beach far away
At the side of the court
At the hem of the fray
No one is coming for you
At the end of the day
No one is coming for you
When you’re eating alone
With your head filled with thorns
And the football is on
No one is coming for you
In the depths of this heat
When you’re talking to god
Or the girl at his cheek
No one is coming for you
Or that you’d wanna meet
A thorn
A thorn
A thorn