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

Your neck

Open your mouth sounds of breathing

Found it spilling from your face

Best to be dim to the humble of

Traffic stopping on your name

Count on us all falling our own swords tonight

Chilling walk home down the portions

Of roads there leading straight to your place

Look like the tin can would swallow the kitchen

Plugging up your space

Count on us all stepping on our toes tonight

Count on us all stepping on our toes

Count on us all to fall on our own swords tonight