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Hanging Towers of Baltimore

A Weather
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

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Lyrics

Try locking the doors when there's no need to Try turning off the lights when you leave the room Try opening a window when you close the door Try leaving your clothes on my bedroom floor Say you're walking away instead of leaving Say nothing much has changed now that the locks are And now nothing will blur Nothing goes blunt because of how sharp you were We broke all our pigs Broke all our noses on all the mirrors I'm flapping my wings Flapping my arms like I'm putting out a fire I watch the way the rain gets pushed around Into shapes by the curve of the wiper blades How the fields are gray when they're far away And are green by the road Try standing all day on the highest branches Try crossing your eyes to see the hidden picture I'm gonna see what you meant when you said "I love you" best I'm gonna shake all the trees to make it snow once again I'm gonna see it dissolve into the pavement How cold you have to be before it sticks to your chest? It's nice how things break so you can fix them And feel really good about fixing them It's nice how things end So you can feel good about starting them all over again Ocean break us all The ground that's moving with our fall I wet the street The rabbits will be coming home The wet begins to Lure you as you sleep for what you've been born This is a call for you in the spring I watch the way the rain gets pushed around Into shapes by the curve of the wiper blades How the fields are gray when they're far away And are green by the road It's nice how things break so you can Try not to breathe so hard There's glass between me and you And now it's fogging up I can't see the way you're missing me What it does to your eyes It's nice how things end so you can Trace what you want to say on the condensation Some words align from your favorite song But read it backwards cause I'm on the other side And I take the mirror image I watch the way the rain gets pushed around Into shapes by the curve of the wiper blades How the fields are gray when they're far away And are green by the road