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The Grey Commute

de Nation of Language

I was in love
That was enough
I swear to God
I'm coming apart
Cut up

Eyeing the mask
Singing at last
Consume and collapse
It’s violence
Violence

Broken hands
Begging at the altar of the grey commute
Some of the weight
We can’t carry it

Hand on the wall
Reading it wrong
I look around but
They covered us
Covered, cut up

Promising the world if we only bear the cost, yeah
Picking out the change from your purse and your pockets

Broken hands
Begging at the altar of the grey commute
So much so, its untenable
Broken hands
Praying to see if there’s someone to remove
Some of the weight
We can’t carry it

And there’s a foot on your throat
That you’re fighting to undermine
There’s gonna come a time
They’ll get what they’re owed
It’s a crime

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