Songtext New consolation prize Funeral Diner

New consolation prize

This is a call, a call to soft eyes and a lesser prize.
'we can, we can,' and then nothing at all.
I need you, but he's me, and then come the alarms.
Break aim and forfeit pride, 'cause summer tastes to burn my tongue.
We'll feed on lips and lies, and drink in distrust from each other's arms.
This is a court, a court of contracts and clouded hearts, to you.
I ran, I run into arms that never should belong.
You need me, but he's yours, and I'm wearing knives too thin for you.
We take great care for lips to hide from southern eyes.
All the things that we let slip, to steal skin from love in crooked time.
Don't breathe a word, to see through smiling veils that hide the sun.
this feels like spitting tacks in the wind.
break aim, break aim, break aim (a call to prize)...break.
we take great care for lips to hide from southern eyes.
all the things that we let slip, to wear your skin to cover up this time.
don't breathe a word, to see through smiling veils that hide the sun.
this feels like breathing sand through your skin.
don't breathe a word...