• Hiding
  • Pianos Become the Teeth
  • Hiding - Single

Pianos Become The Teeth - Hiding 

There’s no good in your eyes anymore,
and it makes you want to drive home, drunk and alone.
Curse the faces in the wheat,
drown yourself in the gold because you can’t let it go.
Makes you almost miss the smell of smoke in your clothes,
and it makes you want to wear the wool.