Out on the wall sounds of banging is constant coming from your head
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And desperate the calls came and ringing from those wanna wring your neck
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Wring your neck
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Open your mouth sounds of breathing found it spilling from your face
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Best to be dim to the humble of traffic stepping on your name
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Count on us all falling our own swords tonight
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And chilling walk home down the portions roads there leading straight to your place
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And look like the tin can with swallows the kitchen plugging up your space
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Count on us all stepping on our own toes tonight
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Count on us all stepping on our own toes
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Count on us all follow our own swords tonight
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-----------------
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Our Swords
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| Band Of Horses |
