| Song | Don't Look Now, I'm Being Followed. Act Normal |
| Artist | Hands Like Houses |
| Album | Ground Dweller |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Is this the edge of the world? | |
| We chased the horizon down ‘til it hung beneath our feet. | |
| Now I’m drifting blind. | |
| All I know is we can’t move closer. | |
| I’ve never seen the lights of the north, | |
| The constellations are so unfamiliar. | |
| We followed far, as far as this machinery takes us, | |
| To some imaginary place where the compass shifts | |
| And our lips drift to our cheeks. | |
| Is this the edge of the world? | |
| All I know is we can’t move closer. | |
| Searching for some apparent place where floated needles decide the way. | |
| I’d dig in my heels but | |
| I might crack the ice. | |
| Give me some solid ground. | |
| The frost is sinking in, in my cheeks, in my chest, in my fingertips. ‘ | |
| Desperation,’ we name every cape beyond the last. | |
| Frozen senseless. | |
| Every day is a winter solstice. | |
| The view’s a wonder, but | |
| I can’t take it in. | |
| Sun, make canvas of coastlines, so | |
| I know where | |
| I stand. We round each cape to find a bay to call our own. | |
| We round each cape to find a coast to call our home. | |
| Make canvas of coastlines. |
| Is this the edge of the world? | |
| We chased the horizon down ' til it hung beneath our feet. | |
| Now I' m drifting blind. | |
| All I know is we can' t move closer. | |
| I' ve never seen the lights of the north, | |
| The constellations are so unfamiliar. | |
| We followed far, as far as this machinery takes us, | |
| To some imaginary place where the compass shifts | |
| And our lips drift to our cheeks. | |
| Is this the edge of the world? | |
| All I know is we can' t move closer. | |
| Searching for some apparent place where floated needles decide the way. | |
| I' d dig in my heels but | |
| I might crack the ice. | |
| Give me some solid ground. | |
| The frost is sinking in, in my cheeks, in my chest, in my fingertips. ' | |
| Desperation,' we name every cape beyond the last. | |
| Frozen senseless. | |
| Every day is a winter solstice. | |
| The view' s a wonder, but | |
| I can' t take it in. | |
| Sun, make canvas of coastlines, so | |
| I know where | |
| I stand. We round each cape to find a bay to call our own. | |
| We round each cape to find a coast to call our home. | |
| Make canvas of coastlines. |
| Is this the edge of the world? | |
| We chased the horizon down ' til it hung beneath our feet. | |
| Now I' m drifting blind. | |
| All I know is we can' t move closer. | |
| I' ve never seen the lights of the north, | |
| The constellations are so unfamiliar. | |
| We followed far, as far as this machinery takes us, | |
| To some imaginary place where the compass shifts | |
| And our lips drift to our cheeks. | |
| Is this the edge of the world? | |
| All I know is we can' t move closer. | |
| Searching for some apparent place where floated needles decide the way. | |
| I' d dig in my heels but | |
| I might crack the ice. | |
| Give me some solid ground. | |
| The frost is sinking in, in my cheeks, in my chest, in my fingertips. ' | |
| Desperation,' we name every cape beyond the last. | |
| Frozen senseless. | |
| Every day is a winter solstice. | |
| The view' s a wonder, but | |
| I can' t take it in. | |
| Sun, make canvas of coastlines, so | |
| I know where | |
| I stand. We round each cape to find a bay to call our own. | |
| We round each cape to find a coast to call our home. | |
| Make canvas of coastlines. |