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letra de still life - thrice

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[verse 1]
on the mantlepiece
there’s a scr-p of leather
like a half-remembered truth or lie
and there’s a photograph
of a sun-lit garden
and the sword that seemed to burn with light

[chorus]
the way
it’s closed now
and i can’t go home
the way
it’s closed now
and i can’t go home

[verse 2]
near the fireplace
black with soot and sorrow
then the absence of synecdoche
there’s a whetted axe
with a weathered handle
and the weight of it is dear to me

[chorus]
the way
it’s closed now
and i can’t go home
the way
it’s closed now
and i can’t go home
[outro]
what if i, what if i just let go?
if i just let go

- thrice

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