Unless It's Kicks Lyrics - Okkervil River  Review The Song (0)
What gives this mess some grace unless it's kicks, man Unless
it's fictions, unless it's sweat or it's songs? What hits
against this chest unless it's a sick man's hand From some
midlevel band? He's been driving too long  On a dark windless
night, with the stereo on With the towns flying by and the
ground getting soft And a sound in the sky, coming down from
above It surrounds you and sighs and is whispering of  What
pulls your body down, and that is quicksand So climb out quick,
hand over hand, before your mouth's all filled up What picks you
up from down unless it's tricks, man? When I've been fixed I am
convinced that I will not get so broke up again  And on a seven
day high, that heavenly song Punches right through my mind and
just hums through my blood And I know it's a lie, but I'll still
give my love Hey, my heart's on the line for your hands to pluck
off, oh  What gives this mess some grace unless it's fiction
Unless it's licks, man, unle