LYRIC

Feral children fill your head
Eat the wheels you reinvent
So I’ll cover mine in breathing holes
I’ll let them in and call me home
Somewhere safe, when they need it

Come on cry I crave the guilt
My throats in lumps held up on stilts
Preserved in jars my bones of milk
A brittle frame, what’s left of it
Make me feel like you need it
Make me feel like I’m needed

Honestly come pilot me I’m never doing much
Paired with shade my weather vanes are just paper trails
Leading to some old Camus my will makes the commute
Angel maker

Guess I never knew you then
I’ll never be alone again
An underground celebrity
At least the walls listen to me
Or so they tell me
Son you’ve come
Such a long way

Honestly come pilot me I’m never doing much
Paired with shade my weather vanes are just paper trails
Leading back to old Camus I’ll make the communion, communion

Knocks the wind right out of me and I’m good
You have a heart for breaking so you should
Give him room to kill in peace if you could, could

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