No Bones - Yeasayer

My mind is a colour to get out my mouth

My tongue is a pill that I can’t spit out

Make no bones, about it

We’re older now, than I like to admit

My midnight image casts no shadow

An overturned city as our grass will grow

Make no bones, about it

We’re older now, than I like to admit

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Each steps on a snake fills my lungs

Allison, my slip of the tongue

No thoughts no turning back I

She knows me better than I

No blots no semen it’s energy wasted

Make no bones, about it

We’re older now, than I like to admit

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time

Suppose it’s the right time…