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lirik lagu sentries - i saw someone die in sudbury, on

i’m drowning in the parcels
this house is full of angry faces
faces that look beat~up in the sun
faces her fear of being less than one
my room is a nest full of angry wasps
smaller than my hometown sea
change me like a broken knee
and that room is getting smaller
crashes all around me and it’s breaking down the windows
while the cat is on the loose

i’m drowning in the parcels
in the cardboard of your eyes
i’m drowning in the parcels
in the cardboard of your eyes
it’s not like you

sunglassеs on the table
i’m takin’ out a clipboard
i’ll do it this time, i wasn’t kidding
i’ll draw up your bluеprint
and i’ll do whatever else you ask

i’m taking out a clipboard and i’m starting a museum
of every moment that led me to this point
i’m suspicious of new cars and i’m distrustful of old expressions
in a frustrating blaze of self~pity
i start to repeat myself over and over and over and over again
but do you remember how we used to run?
i take it out on people that are cutting logs and
i walk all over eggsh~lls and they tiptoe round mine
but i’ve changed a lot since then, i take that cardboard to the face
i take a break to see what new bones i can age
like a stove out in the rain, like my oil getting changed
like a gift from my preteen self
and your uncle breaks my oven
on this late night talk show i spill my personal history
i told johnny carson about my divorce
i told seth meyers about my brother’s dead horse
i told them i made this place for lovers
that i picked these apples for god
that everything i did was in the name of self~help
i went to church, i went to the last operating blockbuster
i admitted to trampling dreams of burning cornfields (now we’re one)
i admit to worshipping whatever breaks the most of my belongings
i’m still drowning in the parcels (now we’re one)
in the cardboard of your life
while my gem moved out west (now we’re one)
and that room keeps getting smaller
i return to my old corner shop (now we’re one)
looking for one last pack of smokes
i reach my hand out and i touch the door (now we’re one)
like a sailor seeing television
for the last time
but the store was closed on sundays

human, human
human, human
human, human
human, human
human, human
human, human
human, human
human, human

- lirik lagu sentries

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