The Little Hands Of Asphalt - Words That Kill | Текст песни

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• The Little Hands Of Asphalt
• Words That Kill

The first whiteness unfolds.
One look out the window and your sold.
A muffled sound as we rolled around
and a nearby refuge from the cold.
Where your brother had transformed the bed
into a ship that could keep you safe.

But the boy beneath the sheets tonight
is hard to recognize,
with a head the fills
with words that kill
when you run out of things to talk about.

Leaning back on the curb,
outside her parents house in the suburbs.
Her first love was a hopeful one
and you were starry-eyed till the Earth had turned.
But you were the first born son
of a marriage of hit and run.

So ever since you've searched for things
you could easily derail.
And they did, of course,
when you shut those doors.
Is it strange they never understood at all?

No, you were so hard to get.
And all you see now are their silhouettes.
As you keep your pace through the cityscape
and its' picture perfect snow.
While the starlit night and city lights
are fighting to let you know
that the innocence, yeah it was well spent,
but it's time to let is go.
'Cause you've got a sharper pen and the best of friends.
So what is there to cry about?

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