| We’re too late, we’re too late
|
| Release the rigging
|
| No one uses the phone anymore
|
| The tracks are wrecked and the odometer’s ticking
|
| The edge is pushed and the lines are melting
|
| Too scared to look at what I hear outside
|
| Release
|
| We’re too late
|
| Protect, embrace, engulf
|
| Remember the summer in Abaddon
|
| Protect, enslave, in love
|
| Remember the summer in Abaddon
|
| Way offsides and I’m almost empty
|
| I’m cracked and stripped like a domino’s crush
|
| Send a tell if you’re ever near me
|
| I’m A.F.K and I can’t get by
|
| Release me
|
| This vessel’s underway
|
| Secure the rigging, we’re headed south
|
| Tack the sails, man the posts
|
| We’re headed south into the wind
|
| Protect, embrace, engulf
|
| Remember the summer in Abaddon
|
| Protect, enslave, in love
|
| Remember the summer in Abaddon
|
| (We're too late)
|
| Protect, embrace, engulf
|
| Remember, the summer, in Abaddon
|
| Protect, enslave, in love
|
| Remember, the summer, in Abaddon
|
| No one hears you fall to the floor
|
| The mirror’s broke and the newtonian’s clicking
|
| The finds are pressed and the veins are pumping
|
| Too far gone to do more than breathe
|
| Release me
|
| This vessels underway
|
| Headed south
|
| Miles and miles of telephone poles
|
| Fallen and tossed around
|
| I can’t talk to you anymore
|
| And I miss you
|
| And I miss you
|
| Not in a Slint way, but I miss you
|
| Seldom to touch far away from here
|
| Even if I’m released
|
| I can’t talk to you anymore
|
| And I miss you
|
| Not in a Slint way, but I miss you |