December’s Traditions (Live At Barrowlands) Frightened Rabbit

December's traditions suck the last of summer from our cheeks
Draws the curtains, strips the trees
In so-called living rooms, Scottish pastimes come to roost
Love's labor's stain a linen sheet
The ghostly body who makes his bed beside you
Is slowly losing teeth
The boy needs sunlight and the shock of modesty
He needs to get some sleep
It's not the answer; sticking plaster on a shattered bone
What do you need, what do you need from me
It's not the answer; treatin' cancer like a cold
What do you need, what do you need from me?
After months of grieving, fuck the grief I'm leaving
Will you leave with me?
The blood loss, the towering cost
Mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue
The lick brings warm metallic taste
I can't correct myself, convince you
That there's no one else in volumes of new muse
If you want a safe, you don't want me
It's not the answer; sticking plaster on a shattered bone
What do you need, what do you need from me?
It's not the answer; treatin' cancer like a cold
What do you need, what do you need from me?
It's not the answer, I'm just begging to be told
What do you need, what do you need from me
If I had the answer, write a book of what I know
What do you need, what do you need from me?