Walking in the eves, cooing like a dove
All the bugs in the dirt beneath my feet
And the leaves in the trees above
Fill in all the spaces from cradle to the grave
I anchor down my fortunes between the earth and me and space
Tiny window paintings of you... but all they leave me's left bare
Walking across the kitchen you can see that I am high as hell
But when you listen to the things I say you know that I mean well
Something's gotta give one of these days
Soaking in the lake, breathing in the sun
Wake up just before I die to finish all my work undone
These phonies on the west side hide evil on their face
I brush off all these ashes to be born in another place
Walking in the Eaves Video (MV)
The Days We Don't Go Hunting - Walking in the Eaves Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Walking in the eves, cooing like a dove
All the bugs in the dirt beneath my feet
And the leaves in the trees above
Fill in all the spaces from cradle to the grave
I anchor down my fortunes between the earth and me and space
Tiny window paintings of you... but all they leave me's left bare
Walking across the kitchen you can see that I am high as hell
But when you listen to the things I say you know that I mean well
Something's gotta give one of these days
Soaking in the lake, breathing in the sun
Wake up just before I die to finish all my work undone
These phonies on the west side hide evil on their face
I brush off all these ashes to be born in another place
All the bugs in the dirt beneath my feet
And the leaves in the trees above
Fill in all the spaces from cradle to the grave
I anchor down my fortunes between the earth and me and space
Tiny window paintings of you... but all they leave me's left bare
Walking across the kitchen you can see that I am high as hell
But when you listen to the things I say you know that I mean well
Something's gotta give one of these days
Soaking in the lake, breathing in the sun
Wake up just before I die to finish all my work undone
These phonies on the west side hide evil on their face
I brush off all these ashes to be born in another place
Writer: Sam Thies
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid