Concrete buckles, cobwebs bloom.
While angles hold their breath.
In backyards, buckers overturned,
under picnic-grey skies.
While angles hold their breath.
In backyards, buckers overturned,
under picnic-grey skies.
Determined to remain.
To brave this load-bearing embrace.
With bottle caps and paint shards
to confetti my escape.
Will you teach me how to whistle
with a mouthful of nails.
I can hammer, I can yell.
I know this ain't no paradise
but it might mean home to me.
And I'll give it up when
I have fiven everything.
Will you teach me how to whistle
with a mouthful of nails.
I can hammer, I can yell.
Will you teach me how to whistle
with a mouthful of nails.
Will you still love you if i fail.
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