| Song | Badger |
| Artist | This Town Needs Guns |
| Album | Animals |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I read your call sign; | |
| Butterfly. | |
| Thoughts of wings open wide, cast in sunlight. | |
| In my hand your bones are brittle and you burst in to flame. | |
| Untie me and let me leave. | |
| So what if | |
| I should forget to breathe? | |
| Will white light rescue me and secure my salvation? | |
| I can all but hope. | |
| That time will tell that this was real enough for me. | |
| Blessed with hindsight, it was clear to me. | |
| Your reckless advancements came with no guarantees. | |
| My mind’s made up.we were never in love. | |
| So what’s lefts absolution for the weight of our sin.so if there’s no sign of the morrow our souls remain clean. |
| I read your call sign | |
| Butterfly. | |
| Thoughts of wings open wide, cast in sunlight. | |
| In my hand your bones are brittle and you burst in to flame. | |
| Untie me and let me leave. | |
| So what if | |
| I should forget to breathe? | |
| Will white light rescue me and secure my salvation? | |
| I can all but hope. | |
| That time will tell that this was real enough for me. | |
| Blessed with hindsight, it was clear to me. | |
| Your reckless advancements came with no guarantees. | |
| My mind' s made up. we were never in love. | |
| So what' s lefts absolution for the weight of our sin. so if there' s no sign of the morrow our souls remain clean. |
| I read your call sign | |
| Butterfly. | |
| Thoughts of wings open wide, cast in sunlight. | |
| In my hand your bones are brittle and you burst in to flame. | |
| Untie me and let me leave. | |
| So what if | |
| I should forget to breathe? | |
| Will white light rescue me and secure my salvation? | |
| I can all but hope. | |
| That time will tell that this was real enough for me. | |
| Blessed with hindsight, it was clear to me. | |
| Your reckless advancements came with no guarantees. | |
| My mind' s made up. we were never in love. | |
| So what' s lefts absolution for the weight of our sin. so if there' s no sign of the morrow our souls remain clean. |