Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Foxblood
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom Beale
Songwriter
Chris Millward
Songwriter
Aaron Beale
Songwriter
Lyrics
Remember I thought I'd die on the ride home?
Delirium tremens from the alcohol
You'd put up with more shit than most normal folk
The cracks were showing, you'd had enough
So I talked to God, and he called off the dogs
But it was too late, because you'd already gone
Adrift alone in this empty home
Like every good empire, we bent until we broke
An empty bag bones, full of bad coffee and smoke
Swinging to the gallows' song
Swinging to the gallows' song
Now I pace the hallways with all the lights on
I've lived here for years now, but I still get lost
Only existing, no more than a ghost
One mortal shell where a man once played host
Adrift alone in this empty home
Like every good empire, we bent until we broke
An empty bag of bones, full of bad coffee and smoke
Swinging to the gallows' song
Swinging to the gallows' song
Let's leave it behind, let's go somewhere evergreen
There's blood on my hands, but I took some time
And I have since washed them clean
There's wine on your breath, and nothing is as it seems
Most things are lost on me
But never the irony
So I talked to God, and he called off the dogs
Did I set the fires, and make all the floods?
For all of the things I've swept under the rug
The damage is done, and I've done quite enough
Adrift alone in this empty home
Like every good empire, we bent until we broke
An empty bag of bones, full of bad coffee and smoke
Swinging to the gallows' song
Swinging to the gallows' song
The song, the song
Swinging to the gallows' song
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