
News
The Decemberists: "Everything actually is awful, and it's not that funny"
Colin Meloy chats with Dork about getting out of old habits, branching out into literature and what’s next for The Decemberists.
Nov 7, 2018 • 3:30 PM
Lyrics
If the rocks in the box Get the water right down to your socks This bulkhead's built of fallen brethren's bones We all do what we can We endure our fellow man And we sing our songs to the headframe's creaks and moans And it's one, two, three On the wrong side of the lee What were you meant for What were you meant for And it's seven, eight, nine You gave your shuffle back in line And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again And you won't make a dime On this gray granite mountain mine Of dirt you're made and of dirt you will return So while we're living here Let's get this little one thing clear There's plenty of men to die, you don't jump your turn And it's one, two, three On the wrong side of the lee What were you meant for What were you meant for And it's seven, eight, nine You gave your shuffle back in line And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again And it's one, two, three On the wrong side of the lee What were you meant for Whatever you're meant for And it's seven, eight, nine You gave your shuffle back in line And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again And if you ever make it to ten, you won't make it again
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
Track details
More from The Decemberists
Explore
Showing 10 of 120
