Smouldering Sticks - Press To Meco

Man I feel like a peasant in rags on a battlefield

Out and about for a daily morning stroll

I can’t stop my mind coming back to the places

That’s guaranteed to leave me full of holes

These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame

With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames

Yeah, we wax poetic at a cafe

Justify the need to reconcile

A tongue checks the same familiar ulcer

Knowing it’s gonna be there all the while

These arms ar smouldering sticks and there’s no on to blame

With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames

And if we’re breathing in smoke then I’ll ignore the pain

With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames

Yeah, we wax poetic at a party

(These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame

These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame)

Justify the need to leave your mind

(These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame

These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame)

A snow capped vista, steady surface

(These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame

These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame)

I don’t usually have the coin or the time

(These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame

These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame)

These arms are smouldering sticks and there’s no one to blame

With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames

And if we’re breathing in smoke then I’ll ignore the pain

With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames