Someone Has His Fingers Broken
de Black Eyes
These days i've been finding it hard to trust myself
As oil drums carry our nation's blood
Blackened by too much summer fun and offshore
Spills. the time to chill has passed because soon
We will feel the effects of our warring globe
Warming up to suicide...
We have a new kind of rain to worry us.
Our nocturnal emissions touching the face og god.
A new kind of rain to worry us...
Drumming on metal rooftops...
Around the world...
If we can't live like other people do
What holds our hands behind us?
If we can't move like other people
Oh oh what's wrapped around us
Oh oh and how to move to home home
To movements that we know know
Knowing that it's home home wrapped
All around us
Moving backwards through native tongues
Native tongues reach sore lungs
Native tongues reach into sore lungs
Sore lungs explode outward through
Bleeding gums
Creation i'm not my own
Creation i'm not my own
Possession i'm not my own
Creation swimming backward through
Native tongues native country receive
Native son native son fumble in
Foreign tongues speak to ghosts is act of
Generation speaking tongues is our separation
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