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Crimes of the Heart - Waxahatchee
Lyrics by：Katie Crutchfield
Composed by：Katie Crutchfield
Produced by：Brad Cook
I got off at your stop at my stock's sudden drop
I'm a trusted doorstop or a paperweight taciturn inanimate
I can sit on your shelf like ashes foretell
A spirit in hell while the living sleep right on through
Take a shortcut
& I coulda called I suppose I'm the thorn on your rose
I'm the emperor's new clothes
& I make it look easier every time
If you'da left it to me who knows where we would be
Reading fortunes for free in someone else's goldmine
Survey my breaker like cheap wine
You let it in sometimes
A floodgate you can pantomime
In every crime of the heart you'll rip yourself apart
It's outsider art provokes every emotion
& it may bewilder a few it's an unpleasant view
You're an agent of truth twisted up at the tail end
You play the villain like a violin
It comes from within
Darkness you can befriend
It's a dead end
Don't overextend
Hail the darkness you can befriend