Living Type - Powderfinger
You hold the future in your hands
And sullen eyes soothe and command
A graceful mouth your deadly tool
Too bad the truth has fallen through
There's love on your breath
I'd better not say
About the blood on your hands
There's love on your breath
I'd better not say
About the blood on your hands
The cross on your head
Tell me what does that say
About the blood on her dress
-- Ok, Powderfinger was the first real band I feel in love with (before that ... the less said the better) when I was around 12-13 (so like in 2000). Can I just register that I had unexpectedly good taste for someone so young? Anyway, so the point is that they mean the world to me and I have never reblogged anything by them yet which makes me stupid as hell. so yeah *awkwardly looks at this spiel, decides to reblog its pointlessness anyway because that's what I always do*
Take away point: Powderfinger is fucking epic.