Shades of grey
Coldness from inside
We're snowed in
Without a shovel plow
Rhetor
I left my home on the way to Chicago
Somewhere out
Come and hear the funeral marchin’
Maybe this is your suicide
Maybe
When I was young I threw bullets in the fire,
See the bloody faces lifted to the sky
Do you want
Are you serpent or you just danglin on me.
I watch
Blind before my head turned to the ones I love,
Blind,
I rode in a boat With concrete women They like
To obtain the space I need
I lock myself in shelter
I get so nervous when the spirits hide
I can’t wait
Here we stand again
in the year of 1999.
But
Went down to a second hand store
to buy some clothes
We have not traveled very far
We have not traveled very
Good morning I see you There on the phone Good
Hit upon ‘em Joe,
Raise the barn yourself
Hit upon ‘em Joe,
Raise
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