Text: Republic Of Wolves (The). Other. Wood/bricks.
Two carpenters of failing worth,
We found ourselves in disrepair,
But didn't care.
So we took the wood from that old tree,
Built a coffin on the sea.
Flowers strewn across the deck,
Sails drape around our broken necks.
And I'll (And I'll) be taken apart when it's over.
Our ruined hands collecting dust.
Uneven loves that drove us into, our bodies.
But we found the bricks from our old house,
Tried to put them back together,
With no foundation underneath,
It crumbled right back to a smoldering heap.
And we'll (we'll) be taken apart when it's over.
So we gave every flaw in our crooked construction, a name,
And accepted that nothing was meant to hold up for this long.
When you felt the sun come alive in your ribs,
You were dying, just to try it,
As the sutures and stitches that held you together were splitting,
And it made such a glorious sound.
You wire strings slowly disappear.
Well I have been emptied of every fear.
The things that we had but never replaced.
We're falling asleep and forgetting the names.
Well I pried myself into pieces and scattered them over, the wreckage,
And you were still shaking your head, holding on to your nails.
And every splinter of timber like thunder inside of my shuddering frame,
Says I'm gonna pay, yeah we're all gonna pay, when it's over (when it's over).
Republic Of Wolves (The)