letra de the 5/8 type - the motes
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rusty cabins where the water courses
initialed in cement, bodies been spared
it’s the five eight type but its not my type
if anyone cares
stucco faces would be nothing
without shadows, without light
and nothing would be anything at all
unless it’s felt, unless it’s right
shiny rivets take no questions at all
take nothing
nothing nothing nothing
it’s so wiry, it’s so wiry
like silhouetted trees against the sky
it’s so wiry, it’s so wiry
to be so clever my last hypnotist was never here
it’s nothing, unless it’s felt
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