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
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