Pigeons (Foals XIII Remix)-The Hundred In The Hands

Pigeons (Foals XIII Remix) - The Hundred In The Hands Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Kicking on the edge of town Counting all the pigeons down Walking in the steps of men. I have the feeling they’re not breathing. She's shaking like a rattle Sneaking out, the hour's still Waiting for the room to fall in Watching the time unwind. Saturday, Saturday Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Saturday, Saturday We go! Kicking on the edge of town Counting all the pigeons down Walking in the steps of men. I have the feeling they’re not bleeding. Laughing like a right-loon Slavering at the silvery moon Waiting for the room to fall in Waiting for him to come. Saturday, Saturday Saturday comes, Sunday comes We go Saturday, Saturday We go She is still not still is not still. He is here and not here at all. Cold grey morning, waking in his room she goes Crawling out the window, Climbing up the crooked stairs. Above the ceiling leaning tracing pigeons Turning circles in the morning sky. I don’t know why, you don’t just fly away, Fly away, fly away Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go (I don’t know why, you don’t just fly away, Away, away, away) Saturday comes, Sunday comes, we go (I don’t know why, you don’t just fly away, Away, away, away) We go