NATIVE


Something About Swordsmanship Lyrics

Eleven; folders filled with
paper, green will flood.
Thirteen; coal black nights with
laughter, trusting tongues.
Fifteen; cement ponds and
car rides, paths have crossed.
Nineteen; boxes filled with
IDs, green is lost.

I’ve been, exchanging, thoughts with, a new wind.
(this is, growing. this is, changing)

This basement confides my end of the rope.
Wave at the cancer, it’s hiding in gray smoke.
The red glass spills, and brings forth the ghost.
The gold on this bracelet’s as true as its host.
(the ink on this hand’s as true as its host.

We’re planted, we form together and bloom.
It’s green lives, with shades of blue, resign.
We grow up, and then we change,
and then we’ll explain, and then we’ll change, we die.

Lakes gone dry, basements filled.
Paths gone dark, car rides hault.

Carve the hole, place the box, lids down.

Correct these lyrics

Watch Native Something About Swordsmanship video
Hottest Lyrics with Videos
bac06ce6ad2042fc2bb9a515cb5ab0c9

check amazon for Something About Swordsmanship mp3 download
these lyrics are submitted by kaan

Record Label(s): 2009 Native
Official lyrics by

Rate Something About Swordsmanship by Native (current rating: N/A)
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Meaning to "Something About Swordsmanship" song lyrics no entries yet
required
capthca required

Characters count
: min. 50 characters