作词 : Ben Bridwell
作曲 : Ben Bridwell/Chris Early/Tim Meinig
Out on the wall sounds of banging is constant coming from your head
And desperate the calls came
and ringing from those wanna wring your neck
Wring your neck
And open your mouth sounds of breathing foulness spilling from your face
You best to beat them to the humble of traffic stomping on your name
Count on us all fall on our own swords tonight
And chilling walk home down the portions roads
there leading straight to your place
And look like the tin can with swallows the kitchen plugging up your space
Count on us all stepping on our own toes tonight
Count on us all stepping on our own toes
Count on us all falling on our own swords tonight