Band Of Horses - Bock

The thing about fucking doors that’s always open
No keys, no “come inside”
And have a look around and find that you’re only welcome
Your feet kicking up, closing eyes
And taking off the wooden gloves, smell something other
Than a beat bock gawking in our eye
And what about the next one born of this particular motive?
There’s no peace no calming down


Locket of the baby’s hair’s in the next drawer over
And I keep things in my mind
A photograph taken of you when you were older
Your face melts, showing lines

And you know what this is
And you know what you did
It’s gonna go on like I said
If you don’t, then we’re dead

So chalk it up to being born, or the natural order
Well you don’t know what it’s like
They’re checking off names and drinking international water
We’ll freeze and burn all the time
I’m catching up with you in hopes that everything is normal
The things that in your day
Would get you so down that you might wonder if it’s worth it
Says the bleak part you could save

And you know what this is... /etc./