leave your homes! meet another vocal dawn!

it steers you to the same old places where you beg to be reborn.

still drinkin black coffee, still stare at the wall; we all need a vice to grip our bloody hands to keep us from the fall.

we have to run the risk of getting old, learning lessons from the cold - i want to learn to be a lover, and a fucker, and a man from them!

and i'd try to trust but the crowd is just the face that hides the dread that weaves the sky at night, and they multiply while we get lonelier; so in brooding holes we hope to die, and we grow up angry.


Lyrics submitted by waronselfesteem

With Faces (Like The Backs Of Thumbtacks) song meanings
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