Thom Yorke Unmade

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Come under my wings, little bird
Come under my wings, little bird
Come under my wings.

Unmade, unmade
I swear that there's nothing up my sleeves
And then back again
I swear there's nothing
Unmade.

There's no faces
Won't grow back again
Broken pieces
Unmade.

I swear there's nothing
Won't grow back again
I swear there's nothing
Come under my wings
Come under my wings
Come under my wings
Under my wings
We're unmade.