So many garbage bags
so many missing cats
sniffing around at the door
of our basement flat
so many avenues
so many things to lose
can't see the devil in the detail
surrounding you
will it get better
we will never know can't change the weather
like i can't change your mind
I can hide the hurt on my face
when the lights are low
I can feel you slipping away
when we spin out of control
so turn off the iron lung
and i'll be the last to know
as we turn into ghosts
So many spider webs
junk filling up the shed
nothing compares to the mess
that's inside my head
so many separate ways
so many things to say
i know you won't be listening anyway
will it get better
we will never know can't change the weather
like i can't change your mind
I can hide the hurt on my face
when the lights are low
I can feel you slipping away
when we spin out of control
so turn off the iron lung
and i'll be the last to know
as we turn into ghosts
I can hide the hurt on my face
when the lights are low
I can feel you slipping away
when we spin out of control
so turn off the iron lung
and i'll be the last to know as we turn into ghosts