The Shins — The Rifle’s Spiral

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Dead lungs command it
You pour your life down the rifle’s spiral
And show us you’ve earned it
Clerics fog will recede right before your eyes

So long to this wretched form
Down gray eyes on the subway
Long before you were born
You were always to be a dagger floating
Straight to their heart

Listen, now, we won’t tell anyone
But you’re gonna tell the world
So life ain’t then any fun
Now your viscera unfurls

As you rise, rise from your burning fiat
Go, go get my suitcase, would you?
You’ve thoroughly blown their mind
And now I must have passage home your life’s
Two veins from your heart

You’re not invisible, now
You just don’t exist
Your mother must be so proud
You sublimate yourself, granting us a wish

Primitive mural on the wall
To fortify your grim resolve
And made the glitz of a shopping mall
Another grain of indigent salt to the sea

Goodbye to this wretched form
Oh, them gray eyes on the subway
So long before you were born
You were always to be a dagger floating
Straight to their heart