Pigeons (Foals XIII Remix)

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