Still Life Songtext
von Thrice

On the mantlepiece
There′s a scrap of leather
Like a half-remembered truth or lie
And there's a photograph
Of a sun-lit garden
And the sword that seemed to burn with light

The way
It′s closed now
And I can't go home
The way
It's closed now
And I can′t go home


Near the fireplace
Black with soot and sorrow
Then the absence of synecdoche
There′s a whetted axe
With a weathered handle
And the weight of it is dear to me

The way
It's closed now
And I can′t go home
The way
It's closed now
And I can′t go home

What if I, what if I just let go?
If I just let go