The skyline trigger colt 46
Is dull in a bathroom tub full of guilt
I do alot of recording by myself. Thats about it...
Lyrics
A looking glass left in the sun
Shapes a window to itself and a teller of tales
Is left to the fiend of a subtle listener
Dictionary in the summer breeze caresses open-book pages
And In one self-less act; Auto-manipulation
Conductress commits the unspoken
Yes! For this one time it seems to me:
That the road is not washed away
That the skyline trigger colt 46
Is dull in a bathroom tub full of guilt
That this hill top is not a mountain side
That our leaders will not travel in
!960's hippie-clothing circles
That we can feel the music and not question
Why three of the most inspiring moment never happened
*That this isn't jay-walking on Esperanto Street
But strolling into what we know as reality
For while the note-card napkins lay quietly face down
Under a window, facing a wall, and on a stained matress
-you know, the one that four generations died on-
A six alrarm fire apartment burns the box spring
Recoiling the bookshelevs that only contain war literature
Condemning those statues that talk only of but not act only of peace
The hour is 8:15 and I can't hear anymore
Sirens lay silent behind closed doors
But lights do flicker, it's 8 until never
So long Savanah! So long as it takes!
And this will take a life-time;
Remember?
[*Added after recording]
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