| [00:17.86] |
like those clever traps a bit of wire a rusty barb |
| [00:22.96] |
I've seen some people set and never check for prey |
| [00:28.69] |
there are tripwires in the righteous sneers of some of us |
| [00:33.60] |
in their boots they carry the seeds of all those vines they cut |
| [02:06.06][00:39.43] |
in the papers of the pigs and the whispers of the kids there was one word |
| [02:15.60][00:49.68] |
feels like this room is getting small, we're only talking to the walls |
| [01:06.93][01:00.37] |
take heed, warning, whisper, not me |
| [01:44.45] |
this is just snare and snarl, raccoon blood and kerosene |
| [01:49.18] |
a wasted feeling, eating paper like a trick |
| [01:55.63] |
by this threadbare chord held together so we're connected tightly but only just |
| [02:26.55] |
feels like this room is getting small, soon there will be no room at all |