Lyrics
There are spaces above the doors
Round tables set for four
How can I be an influence whenever you're freed?
He stares at the kids, and he stares back at me
Hiding under coats on the bus
Zipper wheel around
The light filters pink through the clouds
A blockade of the soul, ten years old
Sister, I know to make it stay
Let a release of paper, but make the pain go away
A knife to the jaw
Weapons in the cellar
Condescending teeth
A knife to the jaw
Weapons in the cellar
Condescending teeth
I know a hundred ways to die
Die, die
I know a hundred ways to die
Die, die
You're sore
Knight the child
Grace
Mail the gender back to the king
Kistestver
Kistestver
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