Sticks his head in the door The kind of shit to ignore Baby, I cut the cloth I don't know who to write I don't know who can call up All the questions To clean out a mind I fell in love
I heard about it I heard about it I heard about it No
And so it's not in your clasp What's the function of a task Where I'd stung, I'm stinging? Help me reach a road That's a pity down on the docks Aren't we two separate locks With some kind of wanting? Wanted to take me into your bones What's left of your body
I've heard about it I've heard about it I've heard about it No
I'm standing in there I'm still standing in the need of place Need of place
No, I don't know the path What kind of path I'll go next Long lines of questions Lessons, lessons
What do you lose to conceive? Well it's hard to believe When I'm sold for your sleeve Just come out for your meal Please, please, please
I can admit to conceal No, that's not how that's supposed to feel Oh, no And fuck the fashion of a bee
I'm heft about it I'm heft about it Heft about it No
Compositor: Justin Deyarmond Edison Vernon (Justin Vernon) (PRS)Editor: April Base Publishing (PRS)ECAD verificado obra #15221941 em 18/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM