It'll burn a hole right through this town.
All the animals will feel this in their cages
It'll mix with minerals and backbones
To go home and reflect how they tore this building down you ask for more.
It'll last past a century of soil
Icarus will see it on his way up past the arrow
I understand now it is a color these are the people I group together pre-curse
The letters and the postcards that you sent
My eyes are open sliding your tongue across the paper produces effects
That resemble weather that produces weapons
And the postcards that you sent my eyes are open.
Dig a trench with megaphones and pirates
Everything will change when you pull this boat ashore.
From wheels to motors