Foreign Parts

Nothing out of the ordinary here

I could be at home in an armchair

Yawning, a little piece of theatre

In the event of landind on water

Cresting along in a few short days

Ancient teeth rise from choppy grey

Crimson screams and splinters



We're making memories, stories to tell too loudly

With the sun long faded, only the rain of breath

We're making memories, stories to tell too loudly

With the sun long faded, only the rain of breath (you never once complained)



The cable must be fraying fast



We're making memories, stories to tell too loudly

With the sun long faded, only the rain of breath

We're making memories, stories to tell too loudly

With the sun long faded, only the rain of breath (you never once complained)