Appointment In Samarra

You have scars on your face from where he left you your blue eyes still aren't dry your hands have run through your blonde hair a thousand times you say you're going to Samarra won't be back tomorrow you left a letter on the floor bread winners won't be baking anymore I've been wondering for awhile how records in your heart pull the Brompton shakes apart The blood is in your hands the bodies on the ground around us make no future plans sever every bound that binds us that ties us There is blood on the clothes that you'd once wear for him was it worth the lace facade his hands you still feel round your waist on rainy days I've been wondering for awhile how records from your past make the brief encounters that last The blood is on your hands the bodies on the ground around us make no future plans sever every bound that binds us The blood is on your hands the bodies in the ground around us make no future plans sever every bound that binds us The blood is on your hands the bodies on the ground the blood is on your hands the bodies on the ground The blood is on your hands the bodies on the ground around us make no future plans sever every bound that binds us