Lyrics:
Please say you'll try, kiss her ghost goodbye
Please say you'll try, kiss her ghost goodbye
I'm a pretty girl you know that's right
But I'm sitting by
cannot tap each maple tree from mountain top to dock
In time in time, start to get along with just a few
They seem nice, but someone else will ship them in
restless ghost wants me to pay for the life I stole
all she wants is to watch me hanging
see me dangling
at the end of a rope from the old apple tree
Oh so
a place to stay
Dear pacific day, won't you take me away?
Small town hearts of the New Year
Brought down by gravity, crystal clear
City fog and brave
as they listen excited to the tale of the tree in the eve of night
The mystery of the forest dates from the ancient days
The marks of that time are
next to you.
Morning has come, the children are downstairs
Gathered around by the tree.
The presents are wrapped, the coffee cake’s ready
No one is
The mark is on you now
The furnace sealed inside your head
Melting from the inside now
Waxy tears run down your face
The whore that never told her
down, good people
Good shit's all around, it?s all about
Good people now, good shit, I'm on fire
Directing traffic on the disco floor
Well, one by one,
the last time you had a tree
For reference or for reverence
Irrevocable amnesty
For sure, by now, you're so far gone
To track would be insanity
Ingrain
Ghost dads embedded in your skin
Driving just to move around, incarcerated by whim
Lavender fur
Maple - like the tree
Sprouted from rotten roots, now
Drunk off the henny
Gun auto semi
I wander around the cosmos
You can call me Timmy
Fairly odd conception
Got no squad to question
Cookie Kush, thank
inspiration fails.
Ghost-filled discount parkas, sleeping bags
Peer at me from the crumpled dark.
Inky bruises punched into the sky by bolts of light
slip inside the wind
The sky would hold us down
Break us turn us around
Gone are the days
Gone are the days
Beast in me is the worst in you
There is no
and listen
To the sound of a house
You'll start naming dead bugs just to know
Who's around
Harsh marks by the linen cupboard
On the shiny part of the floor
I was born a wild child in fear of the Holy Ghost
Raised on field holler with the spirit in my bones
I turned 15 I was lost to the Pentecost
I
Of Fame, Poodle Dog Rock,
And The Mecca of Albino Squirrels
We've been to ghost towns, theme parks, wax museums,
And a place where you can drive through
you wished I would be
Please hang a ghost on the tree for me
Snow and toys and cider take their cue
Santa hats and dancing at the sound
I haven't felt
The weeds have all become overgrown
And I know, you hurt down to your ghost
No wonder the marks from your pillowcase
Are always lining up your face
You've
Of Fame, Poodle Dog Rock,
And The Mecca of Albino Squirrels
We've been to ghost towns, theme parks, wax museums,
And a place where you can drive through
Empty brass hits the ground
We duck into the Circle L
Before they up and turn around, well
Inside, the ghosts of us buy
A map and highways out
Couldn't
things get better for you
'Cause I'ma make things get better for me
And keep it Doggystyle, hottest thing out the LB
The L-L-G wit D-P-G by the sea
We
clley
slide past and float around
Ed Tree bass, acoustic lead guitar, tremolo electric guitar, harmonium
Nina Jo Smith acoustic guitar
Matt Lomeo
On that day, river's sweet water grows in my hand
Around the bend later I noticed your colored hair
Smile linger in eyes crawling deep into my skin
a death wish, ain't no future in sight.
Soul haunted by ghosts of opportunities lost,
Priceless moments passed, but I paid the cost.
Voices in my head,
.jpg/277px-Primavera_Sound_2011_-_May_26_-_Emeralds_(5795767549).jpg "Mark McGuire")
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