Death - The Dodos

The sky is just about sand

Your silence seems to have crept

I know the hour’s intense

Death, what could be worse

If I had something to complain about

If I took your place, would it hurt

Something to complain about

I never thought that I’ll let

I mostly want what I get

It comes at night when it wants

You’re better off in our bed

Death, what could be worse

If I had something to complain about

If I took your place, would it hurt

Something to complain about

Prefer the noise to the song

The words, they always seemed wrong

We’re better off within here

Death, what could be worse

If I had something to complain about

If I took your place, would it hurt

Something to complain about

Death, what could be worse

If I had something to complain about

If I took your place, would it hurt

Something to complain about