I'll use the feathers as hammers, shoveling coal for the queen bee And be equally disheveled, fighting bruises off, refusing to sleep
I'm a child of empty promises A product of mistakes But I'm thankful for the false impressions made
Horizon breaks through to me
So what's another throat to hold this knife to When it's been against mine for years
Bludgeoned and blue
These rods and cones can only take so much From your empty words to this bending crutch Was it inherited? I can never know But I'll find all my answers with my baggage in tow There's an art to starting fires Let's see how many bridges we can burn
Do not listen to the sirens, they will drain you then spare you the antidote
None of these songs are about you, how does it feel Rolling, turn over this hill
