Creeping a path to the mat that holds back the door
Wear out your welcome again
Stain all the atlas pink
Where we can cross our hearts
Martyrs take penance and fill up the mattress with stones
Stand in the wind as the carousels spin
Bring out the skill in your skin, polish your hair
Hold up a city with cast iron museum walls
Mornings hit hard with an uncontrollable light
Your islands are conquered and you are returned to the throne
Crouched in a pillow of straw feet on the floor
Pull straws with holy men
And let us find a beach
Wear out your welcome again
And let us find a beach
Stand in the wind as the carousels spin
Pull straws with holy men
Piercing the senses that click deep in the night
Stain all the atlas pink
Stand on the silence of mountains
Build up great railways that run through the horns of the moon
Stain all the atlas pink
And take a look down to the sea
Wear out your welcome again
And let us find a beach
Stand in the wind as the carousels spin
Wear out your welcome again
Pull straws with holy men
Where we can cross our hearts
Where we can cross our hearts
Stand on the silence of mountains
Stand on the silence of mountains and
Explain your machines to the boys, feed them with tools
