Pravda

Lyrics by：Ezra Koenig

Composed by：Ezra Koenig

Produced by：Ezra Koenig/Ariel Rechtshaid

I've waited through the wars of winter

I've watched the cherry blossoms bloom

I cannot wait here any longer

I'm leaving at the rising of the moon

I know what lies beneath manhattan

I know who's buried in grant's tomb

I wonder if they'll wait

A while to clear away my crocodile

I'm leaving at the rising of the moon

They always ask me about pravda

It's just the russian word for truth

Your consciousness is not my problem

'Cause when I come home

It won't be home to you

Your uncle henry lived in moscow

Your aunt ludmilla lived there too

Irina grew up in wisconsin

I'm leaving at the rising of the moon

The final moments in a doorway

The final moments in a doorway

The sacred light of afternoon

The sacred light of afternoon

Something starts to shake the leaves

You tug upon your t-shirt sleeves

And shiver 'til the rising of the moon

They always ask me about pravda

It's just the Russian word for truth

Your consciousness is not my problem

'Cause when I come home it won't be home to you

I took the family balalaika

Those strings would never stay in tune

I hung it up on the piano

I'm leaving at the rising of the moon

I had a job once in penn station

Down at a tie shop called tiecoon

Down at a tie shop called tiecoon

Every time my shift began

I'd see that quiet businessman

I'm leaving at the rising of the moon

They always ask me about pravda

It's just the Russian word for truth

Your consciousness is not my problem

And I hope you know your brain's not bulletproof