Cold Days From The Birdhouse

Another hotel
With  ruined plans
Romantic gesture
With willing plans
And so you make it your own
But this is where your arm can't go
you make it your own

Another phone call
With ruined plans
Romantic gesture
With willing plans

And so you make it your own
But this is where your arm can't go
You make it your own
But this is where your arm can't go

And your red sky at night won't follow me
It won't follow me now.
I won't wear your shoes
I won't clip your wings.

I see it when you lie
We all look so surprised
And, well, you come back
You come back

And breathing in -smoke signs-
Like a puppet told to drive
Well, you come back

And your red sky at night won't follow me
It won't follow me now.
And your red sky at night won't follow me
It won't follow me now.
And your red sky at night won't follow me
It won't follow me now.
And your red sky at night won't follow me
You won't follow me now.

Where are your manners?
So, where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
So, where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
So, where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
So, where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
And where are your manners?
So, where are your manners?