Слова песни Our Swords Band Of Horses

Out on the wall sound of banging
Is constant coming from your head,
And desperate the calls came
And ringing from those
Who 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
Stepping on your name.

Count on us all falling on
Our own swords tonight...

And chilling walk home
Down the portions of roads,
They're leading straight to your place.
It looked like the tin can
Would swallow 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...