White Lies
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Mother Tongue

White Lies

Big TV


The city stays high all night
Lit up and shimmered like a pinball table of fireflies
An echo of home on the edge of life
Shot through the veins of an angel and the devil in exile

But if you have forgotten your precious mother tongue
What do you think your mother would say
Of what you've done
And if you can't remember the place you call a home
Or having trouble placing who's calling on the phone
Who's calling on the phone

Digging those with the cards and the sugar lines
And to the desert of the cinnamon hells of moonshine
He said, "What can I do to make you mine? "
Kiss out the twang through my lips
On the way to the big time

But if you have forgotten your precious mother tongue
What do you think your mother would say
Of what you've done
And if you can't remember the place you call a home
Or having trouble placing who's calling on the phone
Who's calling on the phone

Forgot your mother tongue
Forgot your mother tongue
Forgot your mother tongue
Forgot your mother tongue

But if you have forgotten your precious mother tongue
What do you think your mother would say
Of what you've done
And if you can't remember the place you call a home
Or having trouble placing who's calling on the phone

But if you have forgotten your precious mother tongue
What do you think your mother would say
Of what you've done
And if you can't remember the place you call a home
Or having trouble placing who's calling on the phone

Compositor: Charles Cave / Jack Lawrence-Brown / Harry McVeigh

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