| Cold floors, landlords
|
| Knocking knocking should we let him in
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| Should we lock the door + throw away the key
|
| What should we hide first? |
| Should we
|
| Throw away the door, throw away the sink
|
| Throw away every last comforting thing
|
| Throw away the beds so no one can tell
|
| This is how we, this is how well
|
| Cut the power off, give me cold cramped rooms
|
| Disconnected phones and leaky roofs
|
| Give it to me in large unpaid bills
|
| This is how we, this is how we will
|
| Spend the rest of our days
|
| Forever and always, this is
|
| This is how we live
|
| This is how we learn from our mistakes
|
| Repeat them over + again
|
| Put them all together, that’s what we do
|
| With a little curtain separating each room
|
| Argue, bicker and fight
|
| Everyone plots their escape
|
| But in the end there’s nowhere else to go
|
| This is all we have, this is all we know
|
| Noise spilling out from the traffic on the boulevard
|
| Broken glass and hix in the towyard
|
| Out back say, this is a declaration of war
|
| We’ve heard that before
|
| This is how we respond to a crisis
|
| First we steal each other’s stuff
|
| Then we hide in all four corners of the house
|
| Trying to pass the blame
|
| We form another angry band
|
| Brandon took all the pots and pans
|
| And locked them in his room
|
| Now what are we gonna do? |