Our Swords

Out on the wall sounds of banging
is constant coming from your head
And desperate the calls came and ringing
from those wanna wring your neck
Wring your neck

Open your mouth sounds of breathing
found it spilling from your face
Best to be dim to the humble of traffic
stepping on your name

Count on us all follow our own swords tonight

And chilling walk home down the portions
roads there leading straight to your place
And look like the tin can with swallows
the kitchen plugging up your space

Count on us all stepping on our own toes tonight
Count on us all stepping on our own toes
Count on us all falling on our own swords tonight