Faces, bodies, hair and teeth,
Whose words could say what lies beneath?
Tones of winter's icy spread,
We all shall miss them when they're dead.
Take a deep breath while you can.

Whiskey, whiskey, drink my thirst,
Fill the flask until it bursts.
Let your hinges crack and toil,
Wet the floorboards thick with oil.
Take a deep breath while you can.

Nineteen bats, flat on the street,
Crack of black beneath our feet.
City caught and held them there,
Cages ribbed and weathered bare.
Take a deep breath while you can.

Composição: Francis Mark / Patrick Southern / Tom Tierney