My mom explained bliss as ignorance, she used a metaphor of tribal men, gently unaware of what was
over the next hill, and by wolves these men would soon be killed. So I will die, with both my arms tied
tight. God grant me one last night, to fear the coming tide, alright. I love that patchwork and sky, I
love the similarities in my brain and eyes. I need those thoughts not from my mind, they fend off
lonliness and, god, they're always right. So I will die with both my arms tied tight, tied tight, tied tight.
God grant me one last night to fear the coming tide, alright. Vocals/Kayla, Acoustic Guitar/Ethan,
Lead Guitar/Jeremy, Organ/Kayla, Drums/AJ. Lyrics written by Ethan. Song written by Greyfield.
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