The Venetian Hour lyrics

by

IDLEHANDS


My arms are blue from the blood that was left with you
Can this organ still play?
Find these sheets that are red too
Cheap rolls don’t cry and you’ve paid for me
We all lie
Men change for the love and sea

It wouldn’t matter if she was still married to him
Only if that name was dry

I’ll stomp my feet to make sure you can eat
I’ll kill that soldier if it means we can sleep

My ears can’t take all the words the day brings
If you don’t want to be here, I assure you I’ll leave
But who will be dead with me?
Well, lover I’m nineteen let me grieve

Let me grieve
Let me grieve
Just let me grieve

It wouldn’t matter if she was still married to him
Only if that name was dry
She’s a bandaged dress
I’m a god-like mess
All other loves and their doves can’t distract from the fact
That this lust has aroused

Friction relieves when it wears as I please
Attend to cousins, that would
That would rush for our shun
You can’t grab them all, it's not on their call
You can’t grab them all, it's not on their call

When I draw up our lists, my shame’s all amiss
The green iris burns through raven hair
Take your time

Bandaged dress
God-like mess
Take your time
Take your time

Bandaged dress
God-like mess
Take your time
Take your time

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