Text: Architecture In Helsinki. Nothing's Wrong.

A wicked decision
we can agree
a wicked decision
nothings wrong with you and me
a week in the forest
I'm weak in the fog
You'll be sad to hear that I was robbed
And we're gonna own this
a face to the voice
and we found the means
to cry as you try on the choice
and decapitation
for failing to see
that nothing in the whole wide world
saves us from this situation

Don't stop talking to me please
baby cut me off a piece of yr nearly blonde hair
throw your heart to the crows not the vultures
cos no one in this failing world can talk us through this situation
We'll speak in the garden
we'll burn down the trees
i'll leave out the teasing
while you are down on one knee
And never is heavy and heavy is fine
But owning the streets meant you ate your words raw this time
It's wicked where you tread they shot an arrow in your head
since the apple wasn't there yeah
ripped apart by the crows and the vultures
Ignore me in the parking lot
I'm petrified by conversation.