Lids

Lids they’re found in magazines
They hang like guillotines
Daunting over perfect scenes
Poised above my head
Lids they act like autumn leaves
They’ll bring you in a breeze
Painted nails on broken feet
Strangle every step
CHORUS
Just, just don’t jump
Too high
Frail girl
It’s not your place
To look,
For more than this.
More than this.
Lids they’re sewn into your clothes
They never decompose
Picked apart by worms and crows
Only tags remain
Swimming in your blood they seize
The possibilities
All these years your feet were knees
Darling if you please
CHORUS
Just, just don’t jump
Too high
Frail girl
It’s not your place
To look
For more than this
More than this.
Lids over my ears
Over my eyes
Over my pots and pans
Bring me to ah--
Lids over my ears
Over my eyes
Over my pots and pans
Bring me to a boil
Lids over my ears
Over my eyes
Over my pots and pans
Bring me to a boil
CHORUS
Just, just don’t jump
Too high
Frail girl
It’s not your place
To look
For more than this
More than this.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhohhhh woahhhh ohhhhhhh ohhhhhh!