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lyrics

No, I can't take it anymore, I feel like I'm falling to the floor. Alas, all my dreams are stale. And, when I try to push through to you, I feel like I'm crawling through a door that keeps on getting smaller, all the while I'm growing taller.

All of the things I should have said, 'cause I'm clever. And all of the times you should have won, 'cause you're better. And my limbs will fall off, bone by bloody bone. Like dusty petals, golden rose.

And when I see you were falling down, all I know is that everything will pass us by. And I'd never seen the world I'd loved before, well that's it I'll never know. So go to sleep without me.

Grab your sowing kit made of long forgotten ropes and cotton. Try to stitch me up, and make me whole again. Grab your sowing kit made of long forgotten, forever rotten. Try to stitch me up, and make me whole again.

'Cause I'm trying hard to make ends meet. And I'm trying hard to get you off of your feet. So come on girl just dance for me. Let me hold you down so we can be free.

credits

from The 'Death of a Futurist' EP, released March 16, 2014

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Weekday Wolves Adelaide, Australia

Adelaide's premiere happy shoegaze band.

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