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lyrics

They're digging up the ground
our demons think out loud, in a whisper.
the wind blows through the trees
sleeping in the breeze of your cemetery.
the creek it drowned our horror
blasphemous green torture on heaven's edge.

My head's turned a home for the hum of
the insect's buzz of all the gold stuff.

tell yourself you deserve it
sadness pales and burns the furniture.
faces look familiar
traces of what once were, it's all a blur.
acid lines the leaves
boring ecstasy, once you were a dream.
I've found I can't relate
my whole life is one wait for what never comes.


My head's turned a home for the hum of
the insect's buzz of all the gold stuff.

credits

from I Can Do Anything Because Nothing Is Real, released April 3, 2015

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Ian Taylor New York

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