Hang my eyes up on a hook swells the panic; I can't look inside my own skin, I fail to find my- self again
A million faces look the same, and their replies evaporate there's no soul behind these eyes, if they can't glue me back again
Ghosts drop hints and whisper things, just blood and bone, and bits of string; blood and bone, and bits of string
Family portrait on the wall quiet confusion, circle this: I can feel my mother's hand, but I can't find her face to kiss
There's no soul behind these eyes, if they can't glue me back again someone's life inside a box; nothing here resets the clocks
Ghosts drop hints and whisper things, just blood and bone, and bits of string blood and bone, and bits of string
Compositores: Ashley Spencer Timothy Bates (Bates Ashley) (PRS), Martin Bradley Smith (PRS), Michael Lewis Lindsay (Tunng) (PRS), Philip David Winter (PRS), Rebecca Sarah Jacobs (PRS), Samuel Jonah Genders (PRS)Editor: Domino Publishing Company Ltd (PRS)ECAD verificado obra #20597559 em 09/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM