Plan pleasant thoughts
Before you close your eyes.
Tuck-me-in-prayers
The ache of a fond memory.
Don't think they love you not
As your conscience says goodnight
Tuck-me-in-kisses on the forehead
The ache of a fond memory.
I'd escape through the window,
Through the door on the roof,
If I could kill the bloody panic
If I could f*cking move,
I'd move, I'd move, I'd move.
Go back in time and suffer,
Go back to get hurt.
The vinyl's on a loop in the fire
But the song never burns out.
The song never burns,
The song never burns out.
Frequencies reach and never phase out
An infant's undeveloped brain
Is riding away on the midnight train;
Unaware of the tracks.
My blankets won't stop crying;
They miss this more than I do
They tell me that they're dying,
But can I do, but live and let die?
But my blankets won't stop crying
They miss this more than I do;
A long forgotten symbol of something...
And everybody's hurting
And I can't do a thing
But pray until I'm black and blue
Hope until my body's bruised.
And I hope that when I wake
My body's bruised, all black and blue
Cause when I prayed, I prayed to take it.
When I prayed, I prayed to take it.
I prayed to take it away from you.
I prayed to take that pain away from you.
Take these knives out of my back,
And use them for only good.
Paint the undersides of your eyelids black,
And fall asleep as you know you should.
A couple hours is all I ask,
To cover up our tracks.
The hardest part is hearing you cry from afar.
I know you'd like to change my heart;
Commandeer my mind,
Evolve me overtime.
And you'll sit on the floor, cigarette in hand.
You'll pray to the Lord,
But do you understand what He meant?
A letter won't solve it all, full of apologies you won't accept.
It's hard to be at peace when it's been days since you last slept.
It's hard to be a saint with the knives inside your back.
It's hard to be a saint with the knives in your back.
It's hard to be a saint, but the knives make it so.
The knives make it so,
The knives make it so,
The knives make it so...
heidillium - Knives Make It So Lyrics
heidillium - Knives Make It So Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Plan pleasant thoughts
Before you close your eyes.
Tuck-me-in-prayers
The ache of a fond memory.
Don't think they love you not
As your conscience says goodnight
Tuck-me-in-kisses on the forehead
The ache of a fond memory.
I'd escape through the window,
Through the door on the roof,
If I could kill the bloody panic
If I could f*cking move,
I'd move, I'd move, I'd move.
Go back in time and suffer,
Go back to get hurt.
The vinyl's on a loop in the fire
But the song never burns out.
The song never burns,
The song never burns out.
Frequencies reach and never phase out
An infant's undeveloped brain
Is riding away on the midnight train;
Unaware of the tracks.
My blankets won't stop crying;
They miss this more than I do
They tell me that they're dying,
But can I do, but live and let die?
But my blankets won't stop crying
They miss this more than I do;
A long forgotten symbol of something...
And everybody's hurting
And I can't do a thing
But pray until I'm black and blue
Hope until my body's bruised.
And I hope that when I wake
My body's bruised, all black and blue
Cause when I prayed, I prayed to take it.
When I prayed, I prayed to take it.
I prayed to take it away from you.
I prayed to take that pain away from you.
Take these knives out of my back,
And use them for only good.
Paint the undersides of your eyelids black,
And fall asleep as you know you should.
A couple hours is all I ask,
To cover up our tracks.
The hardest part is hearing you cry from afar.
I know you'd like to change my heart;
Commandeer my mind,
Evolve me overtime.
And you'll sit on the floor, cigarette in hand.
You'll pray to the Lord,
But do you understand what He meant?
A letter won't solve it all, full of apologies you won't accept.
It's hard to be at peace when it's been days since you last slept.
It's hard to be a saint with the knives inside your back.
It's hard to be a saint with the knives in your back.
It's hard to be a saint, but the knives make it so.
The knives make it so,
The knives make it so,
The knives make it so...
Before you close your eyes.
Tuck-me-in-prayers
The ache of a fond memory.
Don't think they love you not
As your conscience says goodnight
Tuck-me-in-kisses on the forehead
The ache of a fond memory.
I'd escape through the window,
Through the door on the roof,
If I could kill the bloody panic
If I could f*cking move,
I'd move, I'd move, I'd move.
Go back in time and suffer,
Go back to get hurt.
The vinyl's on a loop in the fire
But the song never burns out.
The song never burns,
The song never burns out.
Frequencies reach and never phase out
An infant's undeveloped brain
Is riding away on the midnight train;
Unaware of the tracks.
My blankets won't stop crying;
They miss this more than I do
They tell me that they're dying,
But can I do, but live and let die?
But my blankets won't stop crying
They miss this more than I do;
A long forgotten symbol of something...
And everybody's hurting
And I can't do a thing
But pray until I'm black and blue
Hope until my body's bruised.
And I hope that when I wake
My body's bruised, all black and blue
Cause when I prayed, I prayed to take it.
When I prayed, I prayed to take it.
I prayed to take it away from you.
I prayed to take that pain away from you.
Take these knives out of my back,
And use them for only good.
Paint the undersides of your eyelids black,
And fall asleep as you know you should.
A couple hours is all I ask,
To cover up our tracks.
The hardest part is hearing you cry from afar.
I know you'd like to change my heart;
Commandeer my mind,
Evolve me overtime.
And you'll sit on the floor, cigarette in hand.
You'll pray to the Lord,
But do you understand what He meant?
A letter won't solve it all, full of apologies you won't accept.
It's hard to be at peace when it's been days since you last slept.
It's hard to be a saint with the knives inside your back.
It's hard to be a saint with the knives in your back.
It's hard to be a saint, but the knives make it so.
The knives make it so,
The knives make it so,
The knives make it so...
Writer: Heidi Gilligan
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid