Cold Days From The Birdhouse

Lyrics for Cold Days From The Birdhouse

Another hotel with woolen plans Romantic gesture with woolen plans And so you make it your own But this is where your arm can't go You make it your own Another phone call with woolen plans Romantic gesture with woolen plans And so you make it your own, but this is where your arm can't go You make it your own, but this is where your arm can't go And your red sky at night won't follow me, it won't follow me now I won't wear your shoes, and I won't clip your wings I see it when you lied, we all look so surprised And will you come back? You come back? And breathing in smoke signs like a puppet told to drive And will you come back? You come back? And your red sky at night won't follow me, it won't follow me now And your red sky at night won't follow me, it won't follow me now And your red sky at night won't follow me, it won't follow me now And your red sky at night won't follow me, you won't follow me now And where are your manners? So, where are your manners? And where are your manners? And where are your manners? So, where are your manners? And where are your manners? And where are your manners? And where are your manners? So, where are your manners? And where are your manners? So, where are your manners? And where are your manners? And where are your manners? So, where are your manners?