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Spit It Out

de The Maccabees

And he gets to the English coast
To the place he loved the most
Where the spinnakers on boats
Are filling out, filling out

And we get to guessing games
Where no one knows their names
Guess no one’s going home
Staying out, staying out

What are we doing now, what are we doing now?
Come on it’s going to get easier from now
Come on it’s going to get easier somehow
What are we doing now, what are we doing now?

The storm came and tore limbs from the trees
Like a drowning whale
And the thought of it brought us all down to our knees
What are we doing now, what are we doing now?
Spit it out

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