Lids -

Lids they’re found in magazines

They hang like guillotines

Daunting over perfect scenes

Poised above my head

Lids they act like autumn leaves

They’ll bring you in a breeze

Painted nails on broken feet

Strangle every step

CHORUS

Just, just don’t jump

Too high

Frail girl

It’s not your place

To look,

For more than this.

More than this.

Lids they’re sewn into your clothes

They never decompose

Picked apart by worms and crows

Only tags remain

Swimming in your blood they seize

The possibilities

All these years your feet were knees

Darling if you please

CHORUS

Just, just don’t jump

Too high

Frail girl

It’s not your place

To look

For more than this

More than this.

Lids over my ears

Over my eyes

Over my pots and pans

Bring me to ah--

Lids over my ears

Over my eyes

Over my pots and pans

Bring me to a boil

Lids over my ears

Over my eyes

Over my pots and pans

Bring me to a boil

CHORUS

Just, just don’t jump

Too high

Frail girl

It’s not your place

To look

For more than this

More than this.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhohhhh woahhhh ohhhhhhh ohhhhhh!