1. |
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It was a chilly summer, 1905,
Me and you were searchin' for ways, to feel alive,
Chasin' butterflies through the cracked lookin' glass,
Huntin' ghostly white stags down deserted railroad tracks,
And through spectral forests and over your glassy eyes,
Lookin' for childish ways to feel alive,
So when you marry, don't wait on me,
And you better marry, a railroad man,
Cause everyday is a sunday dollar,
In your pale hands, now,
[instrumental]
So I'll lay here naked and bruised, in tall emerald grass,
Blurred and dazed as your spirit runs on past,
And you'll wave me bye, and I'll move my mouth,
But you cut out my tongue, just to spite my face,
As you felt for the grace of the, sky above,
Down the rabbits den, and on the wings of a dove,
Through the frogs eyes, and may I be chasin', a white fox,
So when you marry, don't wait on me,
And your better marry, a railroad man,
Cause everyday gonna be a sunday dollar,
In your cold hands, I
[instrumental]
March, to the serenity of blistered drums,
March, to fields of green and spring long gone,
March, over the trenches painted in mud and mothers blood,
March,
March, o'er the hills of red snow,
March, through the forests of a hallowed valleys end,
March, in the city where our children sleep, lifeless in their ivory sheets,
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2. |
Airwaves
01:53
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Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One,
Zero,
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3. |
Paschendaele
08:43
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"If I got it I got it, if I didn't I didn't"
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4. |
Withered
03:06
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Have you heard of the news today,
The sky burned and withered away,
And beneath a shameful gray,
A corpse whispers may,
Have you heard the news today,
The beautiful stars lay,
Six feet neath the suns rays,
And a corpse whispers may,
So piece together my eyes,
And stitch together my arms,
Break thy mothers lips,
With cottonmouth and starry eyes,
We dream of southern skies,
And a million flies pray,
That she finds her way,
Beneath a sedated daylight sun,
Burnin' on,
So piece together the eyes,
And stitch together the arms,
Break thy mothers lips,
Have you heard the news today,
The sky withered away,
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Buitre Glendale, Arizona
Aggressive punky folk and strange experimental folk hailing from the the urban necropolis of Phoenix, Arizona and it's barren suburbs. Dry, dead, and blunt, just like the Sonora.
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