So glad you found me
I used to comb the ground
The same voice both lift and drown me out
No spine without it
I tried to call it home
I used to bounce around back then, you know
Dry mouthed and outed
I tried to stop it cold
Calling atonal, combing broke
The kind you're right for, the kind you ride it out for
The kind you're right for, the kind you ride it out for
I used to kick around back there
I'd scrape and comb the ground
The same place both fed and starved me out
I dreamed up diadems back then
Kicked in spine to fold
Calling atonal, comb for gold
The kind you're right for, the kind you ride it out for
The kind you're right for, the kind you ride it out for