Lyrics

It was not at all the best of seasons Numbers were not numbers anymore Alone was the same as all together One was equals four What keeps the muscle bound to the bone Black telepathy, not destiny Admit it to the forest that you've blown the whole thing for us Bury all the poets Bury all the kings Bury all the useless, pretty things Nails in the places where we want them But that's no good Baffled brother's papеr 'til he fell back wood We found firе in the mouth of a beautiful pout Kept our secrets at sea 'til the sharks cast them out Every day is fucking hilarious Would've looked you in the eye But I was too embarrassed Bury all the poets Bury all the kings Bury all the useless, pretty things