Tombo’s Wound The Number Twelve Looks Like You
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Tombo’s Wound" by The Number Twelve Looks Like You. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
Fingers crossed
Crossed
Crossed
Crossed
I hope it pours today
I cross my fingers
In a superstitious way, hay, hay, hay
We reel to the rain dance
Between shades of green
God give them a chance
For a quench that is clean
Seas erase from the sands
They're left to swallow disease
From puddles in the land
They're left to swallow
They're left to swallow disease
From puddles in the land
Nothing left to squeeze
I'll tell a million lies
To make the Gods cry
To shower this village
From no more goodbyes
Crossed
Crossed
Crossed
I hope it pours today
I cross my fingers
In a superstitious way, hay, hay, hay
We reel to the rain dance
Between shades of green
God give them a chance
For a quench that is clean
Seas erase from the sands
They're left to swallow disease
From puddles in the land
They're left to swallow
They're left to swallow disease
From puddles in the land
Nothing left to squeeze
I'll tell a million lies
To make the Gods cry
To shower this village
From no more goodbyes
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