Search results for 'camper van wind chime'

still on the mini van windows
Funny lil bastards with their cameras out
Act on innuendos
Know where I'm from don't know where I've been doe
Thanks for

camper vans towards waterfalls and foreign waves
Like cats and dogs with fish eye lens chasing lasers in a foreign maze
Party waves above sound waves above

A Private Understanding

Protomartyr

Relatives in Descent

2017

blowing through
Truth is hiding in the wire

Elvis outside of Flagstaff
Driving a camper van
Looking for meaning in a cloud mass
Sees the face

down on a Tuesday night
Used tampons
An empty bottle of wine
Banana peels, an old wind chime
Dog shit and potpourri
Let all your neighbors see.
Used

how to keep a guard and never trust a cop

Poppa was a man who had his hands on the fam van
Momma was a camper, spent some time in the farm lands
Home

some tools I found in the back of a camper van
I'm sure the owner wouldn't mind helping out a fellow man
And then, who knows, he might just end up as my

The Velvet Voices

Townes Van Zandt

For the Sake of the Song

1968

By Townes Van Zandt
I'll play upon my violin
Until the mountains ring
Of lonely laughter blindly thrown
And cause an endless sark of strings

to find me
Yeye
Faith plus art then I'm happy to chime in
About to kill this beat bila moment of silence

When you all listen to my album there's no

I'm a thorough kind of brother
You ain't never lied
Listening to rhymes, say I'm hell of a wise
Push me to the end, you'll be the wind blowing the wind

pierced your body parts one too many times
And have a huge collection of those Japanese wind chimes

Beautiful you   all of the time
Jesus in you makes you

over the sun
They must forge a oath unknown
Through dangers rewards the throne
The trees are grand
And the wind does chime
And the birds sing sweetly all

a dark day
That's why we rise
We rise
We rise
We rise like the moon
We chime in with truth
Glide like the wing with wind under
Lightning
Been thunder
Been

callers on dialtones
Cantaloupe on siren, sounds like a wind chime
At sunset I play in full swing
At batting practice
I'm Wade Boggs with the purple pogs
My

hand
In hand with clear minds
Thoughts are harmonious like the
Rhythm of wind chimes
Peel back the rind and examine the fruit
Rotten to the core buried