Waiter - Portugal. The Man
Under blankets these hills cover neatly We'll take steps to make sure our failures are hidden But it's hard when our voices echo over ripples? That form on the lakes and the edges they prey on we'll shine Swim around the lake Hoping like hell we'll find shelter in Coal mines incubating lies fathers and families, Hammers and ties brace for the winter Until that rumble leapt up to his jaws Spines of furrowed earth jut jagged as they rise Like welts up on our backs on our bellies It's cold as the lord in the bedroom Lord at your feet The lords shaking the headboard With nothing to eat Cold restless stumbles wanders towards the light That breaks out from the town little homes bearing sheriffs Playing across drifts to the back of the brain Where they flicker like fire speaking of times that they shined
Artist: Portugal. The Man
Title: Waiter