Pour the petrol can, around this caravan.
And watch the flames take all you own.
There's a girl who understands, by the back of her two hands.
She's all you need to know.
'Cause you search for years but you lose everything you find.
There's braille for the deaf and signposts for the blind.
There's heaven for the cruel but the devil waits for the kind.
{Whistling}
And you follow the blackbird home, through the early winter snow.
Your footprints track you through the grass.
And you ache just to smell her clothes, and her cooking down on the stove.
You see her face in everyone you pass.
'Cause you search for years but you lose everything you find.
There's braille for the deaf and signposts for the blind.
There's heaven for the cruel but the devil waits for the kind.
And you walk down to her window.
And press your face against the glass.
Only to find that she is happy in his arms.
{Whistling}
'Cause you search for years but you lose everything you find.
There's braille for the deaf and signposts for the blind.
There's heaven for the cruel but the devil waits for the kind.
And watch the flames take all you own.
There's a girl who understands, by the back of her two hands.
She's all you need to know.
There's braille for the deaf and signposts for the blind.
There's heaven for the cruel but the devil waits for the kind.
Your footprints track you through the grass.
And you ache just to smell her clothes, and her cooking down on the stove.
You see her face in everyone you pass.
There's braille for the deaf and signposts for the blind.
There's heaven for the cruel but the devil waits for the kind.
And press your face against the glass.
Only to find that she is happy in his arms.
There's braille for the deaf and signposts for the blind.
There's heaven for the cruel but the devil waits for the kind.
This song and band are both great. This song has to be about a women leaving a man and taking advantage of the fact that he nearly idolizes her. Making her his whole world. The petrol can around the caravan must be a metaphor for burning down the path in life he had been following with this woman. The chores must stand for the fact that there is no direction or map to follow, given to us in life. And to him it seems those who do evil are rewarded and those who remain kind lose.
And the whistling is awesome