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Lyrics
With the synth and sound we might just believe that we could do All the things in our minds with exact knives and bing's that will make you Write all the sounds, all men traded into worlds where we due to Love, and defined all the leaves that we can speak about Well, you know where you like that the cinder blocks are taking up our View for a while with the simple mathematics of our Lives and design. There's a head that pointed five degrees to the right Do you know there will only be so many of our kind? Give us some of the ghost notes Give us some of the chosen, oh Give us some of the closing slots Give us some of the falsest hope We are lies and go right down through the suction on the great Eye and we climb do you know the knee scrapes represent that we thought of design? It comes in and rolls you out with thoughts of the world not in line Do you think that they're imaginary hearts? It was right to return to pieces of the circle where we declined I know military moments will believe us It's a sound, and a tick-tock to the world that tells you How you arrive do you think that we are momentary? Give us some of the ghost notes Give us some of the chosen, oh Give us some of the closing slots Give us some of the falsest hope This is where the like, the like rude choir comes in, alright? It goes like this, it's like 'Cause we wanna love, wanna sift through the creation time by Night with your thoughts you know I am just a literary fox with a song They come in like shells and sink right through the World and the rhyme you know pieces of the poetry go out for the cause Does it feel like somethings missing? Time to concede for a while because all that's right is always that's what's wrong In your mind are the churches right beneath the stairs of your House and the time, it's the tick-tock going out and weary
More songs from Broken Social Scene
Not At My Best
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Song Info
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