| Song | Getting Sodas |
| Artist | The World is a Beautiful Place & I am No Longer Afraid to Die |
| Album | Whenever, If Ever |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| We are the walls in formless shapes. | |
| The overbearing weight. | |
| This house weighs heavy on my mind. | |
| Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. | |
| Took down your pictures and your belongings. | |
| In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you’ll wait. | |
| Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. | |
| Little birds flew by me. | |
| The wind’s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. | |
| Can’t go back. | |
| Where’s your tact? | |
| Where’s your grace? | |
| Where are the things you replace? | |
| Are our words more than sound? | |
| We cut the air and we’ve found to lose your faith in the world is to lose faith in yourself. | |
| We are ghosts in your homes. | |
| We travel under the floor. | |
| And when our voices fail us we will find new ways to sing. | |
| When our bodies fail we’ll find joy in the peace that it brings. | |
| The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way. | |
| Whenever you find home we’ll make it more than just a shelter. | |
| And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. | |
| If you’re afraid to die, then so am I. |
| We are the walls in formless shapes. | |
| The overbearing weight. | |
| This house weighs heavy on my mind. | |
| Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. | |
| Took down your pictures and your belongings. | |
| In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you' ll wait. | |
| Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. | |
| Little birds flew by me. | |
| The wind' s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. | |
| Can' t go back. | |
| Where' s your tact? | |
| Where' s your grace? | |
| Where are the things you replace? | |
| Are our words more than sound? | |
| We cut the air and we' ve found to lose your faith in the world is to lose faith in yourself. | |
| We are ghosts in your homes. | |
| We travel under the floor. | |
| And when our voices fail us we will find new ways to sing. | |
| When our bodies fail we' ll find joy in the peace that it brings. | |
| The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way. | |
| Whenever you find home we' ll make it more than just a shelter. | |
| And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. | |
| If you' re afraid to die, then so am I. |
| We are the walls in formless shapes. | |
| The overbearing weight. | |
| This house weighs heavy on my mind. | |
| Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. | |
| Took down your pictures and your belongings. | |
| In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you' ll wait. | |
| Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. | |
| Little birds flew by me. | |
| The wind' s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. | |
| Can' t go back. | |
| Where' s your tact? | |
| Where' s your grace? | |
| Where are the things you replace? | |
| Are our words more than sound? | |
| We cut the air and we' ve found to lose your faith in the world is to lose faith in yourself. | |
| We are ghosts in your homes. | |
| We travel under the floor. | |
| And when our voices fail us we will find new ways to sing. | |
| When our bodies fail we' ll find joy in the peace that it brings. | |
| The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way. | |
| Whenever you find home we' ll make it more than just a shelter. | |
| And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. | |
| If you' re afraid to die, then so am I. |