Old hope, got stuck in your throat,
|
Wound it's way round your neck
|
And caused you to choke.
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Old hope, made of rope,
|
That held you tight as the chair legs broke.
|
|
When they found you hanging in the wood,
|
You said at least now I don't have to kind nor good.
|
I'll be cruel and I'll be obscene,
|
Tear out my tongue,
|
'Cause I've been redeemed.
|
|
When they found you hanging in the wood,
|
You said at least now I don't have to be kind nor good.
|
I'll be cruel and I'll be obscene,
|
Tear out my tongue,
|
'Cause I've been redeemed.
|
Save my blushes for the grave,
|
No shy glance, no coy restraint,
|
And I won't hang my head,
|
And I won't repent,
|
Won't face the wall and count to ten
|
|
5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...
|
|
Well they tore you down
|
And they tore out your tongue,
|
And they made you kneel
|
For all the things that you'd done.
|
But you wouldn't cry,
|
You wouldn't beg,
|
You just screamed
|
And tore out your teeth instead.
|
|
And when they found you hangin in the woods,
|
You said at least now I don't have to be kind nor good.
|
I'll be cruel and I'll be obscene
|
Tear out my tongue,
|
I've been redeemed.
|
|
-----------------
|
Tear Out My Tongue / Ye Olde Hope
|
| Florence + The Machine |
