Doom-worship drums, arpeggiators and sincerity balanced out with a few punchlines
lyrics
Like a plush claw tenuous gift
Lost a grip in a bowling alley
But all along the fertile grass and flowers
These signs are a little on the cryptic side for you
When we wait up
When we're down
Wide eyed, wig split
High tide edict
Predictaphone memory
Photographically dressing down
You know my name and face
Well I know your diamond taste
Run underground
When we wait up
When we're down
Hit the bricks enclosed
I wanna like this lighter
Burns a wick or oil slicks
Are open in their wild eyes
We don't own the brakes
So pull up stakes
And loan the truly disengaged
A calmer way to reach old age
And hold their own
Their song
When we wait up
When we're down
You bring me down
Like metal storefronts
Before the regulations changed
Suddenly faceless
Even if I can't see inside
But upgrown like the last of the weeds
It's your time
Keep on hold, he's on blast, but he pleads
'I'm willing to buy,' with a nod and a sigh
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