Bones of Her Hands - Archers of Loaf

She takes the bones of her hands, to tangle up the soles of her feet

To make a loss look good on paper, 'til it’s outside of our reach

And they’re coming in on runway strips to pump the rival’s hatred

And screaming out uncomfortable and falling out of favor

And they coat the walls, too complicated

Scrape the roads in desperation

Distances too far to wait on

In the throws of …

She takes the bones of her hands, to trample on the soles of our feet

To make a loss look good on paper, 'til it’s outside of our reach

It’s the perfect confrontation now to pump our rival’s hatred

And screaming out uncomfortable and falling from your favor

And it writes itself too complicated

Breathe the air in suffocation

Distances, so self-effacing

In the throws of the bones of her hand