All the leaves have turned to leather I have lost faith in the spring Withered like a dark balloon I hear no robin sing Ushered with no shower still Oh the rain falls off the eaves And a rim of shady light That forms these patterns on my hands I can see your ring Is it camouflaged or etch Tell your king From me this errand sent To call such a hole In the kingdom of the Lord That we are afraid Where there is no fear Oh he fell into a slumber And did not wake until the dawn To see a band of orange clouds Cross the middle of the sky He got into a fluster He felt a tightening in his leg With such finesse he waived a hornet From a wine glass And tiny fluffs of the feathered life And you wander forth With your insolence and wine The fruitless mourn To whom that cannot hear What the fuck am I doing here In the ghettos of Chicago Amid the poverty and despair Inside the game hens Were the giblets in a plastic bag A cocktail which consisted of His gin and her vermouth Garnished together with pearl onions And dying eyes gleamed forth their ashy light Tiny fluffs of the feathered life And you wander forth With your insolence and wine A fruitless mourn To whom that cannot hear |
Videos
|
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2007-2009 LyricWorld.com, LoiNhac.com
© 2009 lyricworld.com, loinhac.com are two of a family of companies in the LmVN Group.