Tekstovi: Beirut. March of the Zapotec. The Shrew.

She wasn't ever obliged
To lift me a buckle or rise
And once her eyes covered with flies
The pain she no longer disguised

Windows that I'm terrorized in time
Never to ignite
There was once a time beside

It holds each one in light
'Til the market left dry
How long she's been by my side
But at last, the stable's retired