Fair To Midland - A Wolf Descends Upon The Spanish Sahara Lyrics

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If you're keeping score then you're bound to win,

A birds eye view of a burning bridge,

You've come through ghost towns set on pause,

Hoping your risk was worth a cause,

Whoa, sound off the false alarm, whoa

But I'll make my own colleague from wood and from ivory,

And reap the rewards of proximity,

I'll assemble my equal from what I lack and require,

And gather what's left unaccompanied.

It smells like disaster,

It looks like a trap,

So go by the wayside,

And never look back.

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If you could spare me forty winks,

While you cry wolf and I count sheep,

What good are ghosts in Kevlar vests,

With backbones like a jellyfish?

Whoa, stomp on your land again, whoa

But I'll make my own colleague from wood and from ivory,

And reap the rewards of proximity,

I'll assemble my equal from what I lack and require,

And gather what's left unaccompanied.

It smells like disaster,

It looks like a trap,

So go by the wayside,

And never look back,

If you are keeping score then you are bound to win,

A ring side seat at the main event,

Whoa, stomp on your land again, whoa

It smells like disaster,

It looks like a trap,

So go by the wayside,

And never look back.

It smells like disaster,

Thank God I can smell,

And go by the wayside,

I'll never look back.

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