| Song | Starving To Death In The Belly Of The Whale |
| Artist | Hands Like Houses |
| Album | Ground Dweller |
| There’s no injection for this, the aching in your lungs. | |
| So bite down, but even vipers mind the venom lacing their tongues. | |
| Puncture wounds and almost no colour in our skin. | |
| And we smashed every vial of the cure. | |
| Aren’t we vicious when we’re backed against the wall? | |
| I wish you’d just passed me by and we went about our ways, | |
| Instead of this bitter exchange of poisonous words. | |
| If the sting would tear you inside out, | |
| Wouldn’t it be worth just holding it inside? | |
| Revenge should be honey on our tongues, | |
| But it’s turned to ash in our mouths. | |
| Empty out the hives of our honeycomb lungs. | |
| Don’t we all want to be left alone? |
| There' s no injection for this, the aching in your lungs. | |
| So bite down, but even vipers mind the venom lacing their tongues. | |
| Puncture wounds and almost no colour in our skin. | |
| And we smashed every vial of the cure. | |
| Aren' t we vicious when we' re backed against the wall? | |
| I wish you' d just passed me by and we went about our ways, | |
| Instead of this bitter exchange of poisonous words. | |
| If the sting would tear you inside out, | |
| Wouldn' t it be worth just holding it inside? | |
| Revenge should be honey on our tongues, | |
| But it' s turned to ash in our mouths. | |
| Empty out the hives of our honeycomb lungs. | |
| Don' t we all want to be left alone? |