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

Open your mouth sounds of breathing
found it spilling from your face
Best to be dim to the humble
of traffic stomping on your name

Count on
us all
falling on
our own swords
tonight

And chilling
walk home
down the portions
roads there
leading straight to your place

Look like
the tin can
with swallows
the kitchen
plugging up your s___e

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 swords
tonight

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