Kimbra

You heard the crickets of the early eve
They lurk around the opening in twos and threes
Clementine told you not to move with the breeze
I'll take you down to places where we dare not speak
The red light in the doorway says she's armed
But boy go try your luck and you might get past
Step into the dwelling of the liger's mouth
Peer into the panic for a kick and swell
You know you shouldn't be there but it's way past bed
There's comfort in the fingers of your good intent
You know you shouldn't be there but your money's all spent
You've got your reputation and your good intent
Your good intent
Out to feed that habit when you've sowed that seed
Nothing made you feel out of the ordinary
But the air turns sombre and the night took heed
Took you on a waltz of hypocrisy
She broke your bones, now you're lying in the dirt