The Rifle's Spiral de The Shins

Dead land's collided
You pour your life down the rifle's spiral
And show us you've earned it
Cleric's fog will recede right before your eyes

So long to this wretched form
Down gray eyes on the subway
Long before you were born
You were always to be a dagger floating
Straight to their heart

Listen, now, we won't tell anyone
But you're gonna tell the world
So life ain't then any fun
May this rail unfurl

As you rise; rise from your burning fiat
Go, go get my suitcase, would you?
You've thoroughly blown their mind
And now I must have passage on the lines
To the veins from your heart

You're not invisible, now
You just don't exist
Your mother must be so proud
You sublimate yourself, drowning us of rich

Primitive mirror on the wall
To fortify your grim resolve
And made the glitz of a shopping mall
Another grain of indigent salt to the sea

Go back to this wretched form
All them gray eyes on the subway
So long before you were born
You were always to be a dagger floating
Straight to their heart