Song | Share - Album |
Artist | Cymbals Eat Guitars |
Album | Why There Are Mountains |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
If I should return like I once did | |
Animals will mark me with brown infant eyes | |
The same eyes whose lids I kissed the high grass in which they sit | |
Is shoulder length and hanging on your forehead | |
A week is four years in ancient hive minds | |
And soon those eyes begin to well up | |
Your shallow grave concealed by fragrant leaf piles | |
Black glistening bird eyes averted |