The Afterlife - Snow Patrol

Throw the phone hard at the wall\nAnd at once my muscles stall\nSlowly my mind cools and calms\nDecompressed and disengaged\nI put my pen to virgin page\nWith each scratch I’m hauled away\nThrough the slowest country dance\nTo not knowing in advance\nEvery impending detail\nSo exploding with the news\nCages rattled, looks confused\nSeems I might have gone too far\nMy front door lies in splinters\nAnd barefoot in the winter\nMy prayers are unsuccessful\nTo a god that I can recall\nI could learn\nI could learn\nI could learn to keep my mouth shut\nI might learn\nI might learn\nI might learn to keep my mouth shut\nThere’s a pause before the howl\nAnd I’m well past feral now\nLiberated and joyous\nCurtains open, necks are craned\nShady heads in burnt wood frames\nThen the rumble from within\nThe insanity is catching\nAs out of doors like hatchlings\nThe people leave their houses\nIn barely more than blouses\nThis is fun\nThis is fun\nIt’s the most fun I remember.\nThis is fun\nThis is fun\nIt’s the most fun I remember.\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight that we are winning\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight that we are winning\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight that we are winning\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight\nIt’s the fight that we are winning