Text:
New Pornographers The

I can never place the name with the face. Don't touch me, don't touch me up, to the tee, by the numbers. It's not much but I'm going under. Liar, Liar

me a tall tale, go, shout it out, Silhouette shout from the top, Sweet talk, Sweet talk Yeah, Sweet talk, Sweet talk Amnesia becomes ambition, Ambition becomes a new

When John, he saw the numbers he lied Made up the whole thing, he failed when he tried To cash in on his cautious new fame Always the numbers but never

things that go to make heaven and earth are here All of the things that go to make heaven and earth Put your new weight in gold and see what it's worth

Cruising the magnetic strip, I seized the ship I wanted it to be me that was with you Site unseen shot through with meaning I ran to the door, looked

Ready to bolt at the first glimpse of failsafe Signing my checks with a name that's not mine Clocking the hours that spin round through the tail end Scolding

You went looking for shelter in all the wrong spaces You grew gluttonous and famous with faces Nameless and blank, superstitiously you name them St.

is Upon us. You always loved short story form, The signs behind it, the hidden doors. You live for flame when the attraction's new, The leathers pulled

was to try and make a sound then I heard the call of I heard the call to screaming ?I don't wanna? I saw the girls the new world minstrels whispering ?