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Lose Control

de Portugal. The Man

I met a face ring rounded pocket eyes
That shaped folded banks inside
And he shivered out thoughts
They went: Golden and pale wind whispers breathe New Orleans
Through basements and racetracks met hollowed out from stretching mouths

All these thoughts were rolled onto needles
They spilled from heads
Tumble like apples fell into the sky
That's where they hide
Where rubies turned diamonds
Like textures like sunshine
Behind hands arms lift into its own

As the stadium sheds out the crowd into the streets
Out of their throats pours tongues licking down
What will we become?

Rhythms fed gently in vacuums perspired
Will stay where it's warm
Where it's safe from the down beating drums
They went: Golden and pale wind whispers breathe New Orleans
Behind hands arms lift into its own

As habits pull the sleep out covered in the sheets
That harbor rest and sunshine

As the stadium sheds out the crowd into the streets
Out of their throats pours tongues licking down
What will we become?

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