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 humbling
Traffic stomping on your name

Count on us all falling our own swords tonight

Chilling walk home down the portions
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