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the swan sang with a broken neck
out by the pool, behind the fence
you can’t forgive me when
you know if i had the gun i’d
choose to shoot again

he raised my hands in the backyard
he taught me to be a good shot
you love the sound of sorry
even when you know i’m not

in the holy land of broken homes
you still pretend you don’t know
that i took it out back and i
snapped its neck just like
a wishbone and let it die

he raised my hands in the backyard
he taught me to be a good shot
you love the sound of sorry
even when you know i’m not

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