Two Knocks

Cold fire tonight and head slow Ironed eyes and lead to hide the gallows The crowd's stoned out on Bottles in the back and the red rope Bottles in the back and the red rope I shot him down Two knocks at the door and he hit the ground One last breath, well, I suppose And the beat goes And the beat goes And the beat goes On broken strangers filled with blind hope Perched the thing with feathers made of red smoke As the sun bleeds down on All the tangled rivers and the loaded guns All the tangled rivers and the loaded guns I shot him down Two knocks at the door and he hit the ground One last breath, well, I suppose And the beat goes And the beat goes And the beat goes The sun goes black as the cello plays The kind of cinematic swell that makes the critics say "If only we had made Something out of nothing for a quiet grave Something out of nothing for a quiet grave" I shot him down Two knocks at the door and he hit the ground One last breath, well, I suppose And the beat goes And the beat goes And the beat goes And the beat goes