She takes the bones of her hands, to tangle up the soles of her feet
To make a loss look good on paper, 'til it's outside of our reach
And they're coming in on runway strips to pump the rival's hatred
And screaming out uncomfortable and falling out of favor
And they coat the walls, too complicated
Scrape the roads in desperation
Distances too far to wait on
In the throws of ...
She takes the bones of her hands, to trample on the soles of our feet
To make a loss look good on paper, 'til it's outside of our reach
It's the perfect confrontation now to pump our rival's hatred
And screaming out uncomfortable and falling from your favor
And it writes itself too complicated
Breathe the air in suffocation
Distances, so self-effacing
In the throws of the bones of her hand