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• Artiste: Wye Oak
• Titre: Glory
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I see his eyes moving away from me Oh no, is this another albatross? He knows he holds dominion over me But what I gain is worth the cost We share the cold embrace of cousins I wonder if I've seen him somewhere else before And as I wonder at his ancestry I'm ? by the door And in the telling of the story I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase I read his lips and I see glory But what I hear is "be afraid" So from the fog of every morning Until the heat of day is still I watch the clock as it turns backwards I watch the water run uphill And in the telling of the story I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase I read his lips and I see glory But what I hear is "be afraid" And in the telling of the story I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase I read his lips and I see glory But what I hear is "be afraid"