| Break your little hands
|
| Break your little hands
|
| I’m sure you’ll call
|
| Break your little hands
|
| Break your little ways
|
| I’m sorry, sure
|
| Tell your mother I’m a thorn
|
| By the favorite scorn
|
| And don’t let your self be trained
|
| Like a monkey in the basement
|
| And all l love’s gone
|
| Brace yourself, this is it
|
| Sell all your clothes and commit
|
| To strange towns and better times
|
| And find out who loses strength from all the strains
|
| And by the way others will fall
|
| Pray, like a kid on the center stage
|
| Rotting in covers, rotting in covers
|
| Looking around, wrapping your head
|
| Feeling alone, feeling alone
|
| Break your little hands
|
| Break your little hands
|
| I’m sure you’ll call
|
| Break your little hands
|
| Break your little ways
|
| I’m sorry, sure
|
| Yeah, the people don’t see me
|
| The people don’t see me
|
| My friends only trust in that
|
| Why people don’t see
|
| Those people don’t see me
|
| My friends only trust we’re going
|
| Down, down, down, down, down
|
| Down, down, the way you said |