The New Yorker

from by The Racer

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lyrics

Anywhere you go, there’s a haze
You’ve been sliding this slope, there’s a thread in grey
As your skies seem to dim, and you’re cooled in shade,
cooled in shade

Our loves been spun
Sewn inside for us to chase
With shutters drawn
Those who hide lie awake
November’s hum
Silver cars in blackened gates
Our loves been spun

You’ve been tied to rope, You’ve been pulled by reigns
Anywhere you go, you will feel the same, we’re all insane

Our loves been spun
Sewn inside for us to chase
With shutters drawn
Those who hide lie awake
November’s hum
Silver cars in blackened gates
Our loves been spun

In this coarse repose, I’m on my way, I’m on my way
Still running, though, I’m not the same, I’m not the same
Still steeping oaths, I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid
Still holding on, I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid

Our loves been spun
Sewn inside for us to chase
With shutters drawn
Those who hide lie awake
November’s hum
Silver cars in blackened gates
Our loves been spun

credits

from GIANT, released October 28, 2016

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