the land that we stand on is not ours the house that we sleep in is empty there's ice on the lake and it looks so old the days are becoming friendlier
the water has broken in new clouds the wrist of the skyline is bleeding the temperature's stagnant as rooftops and love i don't know any place where we're needed
it's over she loves you it's over it's love
give me a minute and i will wait for an hour write an address on my eyelids and i'll stamp my mouth give me the surname of copenhagen to look up and i'll stamp my mouth