Birds Of England
The Flatliners
After dark and only then
Does life resemble the face of an old friend
Much can be said for a glass half full
Held by a coward's grip, I'll forever ramble
Singing syllables inside my head
All the awful words that you deserve to hear
But never will again
Birds of England, take me high
Atop this burning tree line
Sending signals up with smoke
I'm never coming home
Never coming home
After dark and only then
Can our broken, battered spirits come to mend
Birds of England, take me high
Atop this burning tree line
Sending signals up with smoke
I'm never coming home
Never coming home
Singing syllables inside my head
All the awful words that you deserve to hear
But never will again
Birds of England, take me high
Atop this burning tree line
Sending signals up with smoke
I'm never coming home
Never coming home
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