Lyrics of '100 Acres of Sycamore' by Fionn Regan

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Do you love the song 100 Acres of Sycamore? Can't quite understand what it says? Need the lyrics of 100 Acres of Sycamore by Fionn Regan? You are in the place that has the answers to your desires.

We'll go to knuckle to knuckle, or buckle against buckle
Your nostrils will flare as you push out the air
Rise up, brother
Rise up from the trappings of flesh and holdings of skin

We'll steer the car towards the reservoir
And poison our senses as nightfall commences
Rise up, brother
Rise up from the monotony that is hemming you in

Tonight while you sleep you'll be grinding your teeth
Put your head at the north and the south at your feet
Rise up, brother
Rise up from the pack who are baying and clawing for blood

Who's there?
How can you hear the door
I'm one-hundred acres of sycamore
Oh flash my hand past your eyes in the air
But it won't break your stare
Is there anyone there
But the four black winds blowing through the eaves of your mind?

If he darkens your doorway, you come and tell me
Where he resides, text me or bell me
Rise up, sister
I'll make sure he never darkens your doorway again

Don't be a stranger to me anymore
I'll hold a lantern, put your heel on the shore
Rise up, sister
Rise up from the black ships that sail through the swan of your heart

Who's there?
How can you hear the door
I'm one-hundred acres of sycamore
Oh flash my hand past your eyes in the air
But it won't break your stare
Is there anyone there
But the four black winds blowing through the eaves of your mind?

Those weasels in the weeds await to jump us
One had a screwdriver and one had a cutlass
We counted the beats between thunder and lightning
One-thousand and two, one-thousand and three
It's coming in from the sea

Put your hand on my leg
Kilometres in blue and miles in black
Lose my eyes in the bathroom
Arm-wrestle, east, west, place brass-tack
Bite my lip in the car, midnight ringing
Unravel on the gravel, phone off, walk
Search for the lighter in my pocket
Go inner, and inner, and bolt, and book
Let the four black winds begone from the eaves of the mind

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