Los Campesinos!

The beats, yeah, they were coming out the speakers And were winding up straight in your sneakers And I'm dancing like every song who spends his bizzle Like all my dance heroes would if they existed And yeah it's sad that you think that we're all just

[ti:Ways To Make It Through The Wall] [ar:Los Campesinos!] [al:We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed] [00:02.00]Los Campesinos! - Ways To Make It Through The Wall [00:08.00] [00:14.00]@ www.1ting.com @ [00:20.00] [00:23.35]Think it's fair to say that I cho

By your hand is the only end I foresee, I have been dreaming, you've been dreaming about me. By your hand is the only end I foresee, I have been dreaming, you've been dreaming about me. I was sitting on my hands at the top-deck of the 178, spitting c

Broken down like a war economy Father Führer, don't be mad at me Peasant child, you're into botany Splitting necks and calling it dichotomy "Beware", the sign on the door suggests I'm better off with artificial intelligence I invented you I inve

As I swan dive into the estuary, the birds do not flinch at my fall They perch in the rafters, before, during, after: they do not notice me at all As I float down into the estuary, wind cases my body in cool I smell petrol fumes, see the smoke rise i

You did not like us cos your girlfriend likely does And all your friends agree on her soft spot for me I'll have my hot hands over her soft spots soon you will see And if you want a list of all her favourite bits I will scrawl them all down for you a

A wish bone hangs between your breasts I hope you haven't pulled it yet 'Cause if this little finger doesn't have the strength Then I'm scared that this bird's back bone breaks It's only hope that springs eternal And that's the reason why This drippi

When the smaller picture Is the same as the bigger picture You know that you're fucked When you're trading paper cuts for splinters You're out of luck Like sharks don't sleep And I don't take my eyes off you The architecture's shit And my cheeks are

One, two, three, four One, two, three, four Any more tears for the birthing pool? Bear this child directly into misery Kiss him in the face with no lips and no tongue But with your little, middle, index and ring fingers Singing, I see songs in shapes