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To never open a book, always reading a magazine.
Out-spent betting, if it looks like winning,
You haven't been.
Knives don't have your back.
I wait and I count.
But knives don't have your back.
I wait and I count to the last breath we take.
What we make doesn't make sense.
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it.
Open your chest.
What's bad? We'll fix it.
What's wrong? We'll make it all right.
All right, It's gone, we'll find it.
Takes so long, we've got time,
All the time.
Some part of you, too small to lose.
Some part of you, too small to lose
All of us, all of you. All of us, all of you
Counting to the last breath we take.
What we make doesn't make sense
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it.
When you talk, can I tape you?
How'd you get what we don't know?
We don't know how to help,
Only know how to hound.
Nose to the grindstone.
Grindstone to the ground.
Don't even visit that place,
They'll sharpen their teeth on your smile.
I'm glad you didn't,
All our songs will be lullabies in no time.
What's bad? What's wrong? Make it all right.
All right, it's gone, so long.
We've got time, all the time.
All the time.
Out-spent betting, if it looks like winning,
You haven't been.
Knives don't have your back.
I wait and I count.
But knives don't have your back.
I wait and I count to the last breath we take.
What we make doesn't make sense.
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it.
Open your chest.
What's bad? We'll fix it.
What's wrong? We'll make it all right.
All right, It's gone, we'll find it.
Takes so long, we've got time,
All the time.
Some part of you, too small to lose.
Some part of you, too small to lose
All of us, all of you. All of us, all of you
Counting to the last breath we take.
What we make doesn't make sense
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it.
When you talk, can I tape you?
How'd you get what we don't know?
We don't know how to help,
Only know how to hound.
Nose to the grindstone.
Grindstone to the ground.
Don't even visit that place,
They'll sharpen their teeth on your smile.
I'm glad you didn't,
All our songs will be lullabies in no time.
What's bad? What's wrong? Make it all right.
All right, it's gone, so long.
We've got time, all the time.
All the time.
Lyrics submitted by whaleharpoone
Track duration: 05:09
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I thought it was about the society 'accepting' a new member, who ends up being just like everyone else, which is what the society wants. It talks about how the new member has something missing in his life, and society says "Oh, we can fix that. Just give us your soul and you can be on your merry way." The new member joins society and has the personality, the heart, ripped out of hime and becomes another wolf in the pack. The knives that don't have your back are the other outcasys out there, the lone wolves who stand out and are always being weapons against the society. But society is triumphant in breaking the newcomers' soul and a happy story makes its end right there.
There was a moment of what I considered at the time to be blissfull lucidity when the line: "All our songs will be lullabies in no time" took a clear meaning. It seems she wants to sing lullabies. But none of her songs are currently lullabies. Maybe the subject has no one to sing a lullaby for.
I was suddenly very sure that the song was written about infertility. I was also, however, quite baked at the time.
"What's a wolf without a pack?" could be interpreted as societal pressure, where the family unit is idealised as a perfect natural bond.
More generally "What's bad? We'll fix it." could then reflect medical intervention to promote fertility, which could be read as intimidating and forceful. She's a broken woman, she needs to be fixed. Or sympathising I suppose, reassuring the supposed woman that "she has all the time" - in other words she's not too old to conceive.
But ultimately "this part of you, too small to lose" is gone "so long". There however still people there to "make it all right", they, not the knives, have your back.
Although, with such a dour conclusion, having "all the time" to spend alone could suggest a long life of misery...
It's not so much as stepping outside the box, as getting lost in a foggy haze somewhere inside the box. What does anyone think? Am I reading my own sub-conscious envy as an inconceivable male into the song? What the fuck has conception to do with Winning? Oh dear...
Whatever damage that was done can be healed and the person can love again, and allow themselves to open up and be loved, given time and patience to allow yourself to heal.
I absolutely fell in love with this song, and with the album in general. Whenever I get tired of everything else, and I just need to shut the world out or I'm intensely lonely, I listen to this song (and album) on a loop and it brings me back. Emily Haines is a genius.
i love this song.