The less and less I sing
As my mouth begins to feed
On any ease I find
But nothing that I need
The moment I am sure
I am sure to second guess
I'll never learn to fly
If I never leave this nest
The moment I am sure
I am sure to second guess
I'm not looking for a home
I'm just looking for some rest
And like a wooden frame
With silk-screen for a hide:
From my pours I recreate
The same old stupid lies
And with my teeth and with my nails
I'll scratch off my designs
Cold, but I'm not dead
Carrying all these fears on wings of lead
Coursed between the cracks;
Burn my bones to ivory black
And like a wooden frame
With silk-screen for a hide:
From my pours I recreate
The same old stupid lies
And with my teeth and with my nails
I'll scratch off my designs