Foals in winter coats,
|
White girls of the North,
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File past one, five and one
|
They are the fabled lambs,
|
Of Sunday ham,
|
The EHS norm.
|
|
And they could float above the grass,
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In circles if they tried,
|
A latent power I know they hide,
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To keep some hope alive,
|
That a girl like I could ever try,
|
Could ever try.
|
|
So we just skirt the hallway sides,
|
A phantom and a fly,
|
Follow the lines and wonder why
|
There's no connection.
|
|
And week of rolling eyes,
|
And cheap shots from the trite,
|
|
And we're off to Nemarca¡¯s porch again,
|
Another afternoon with the goat head tunes,
|
And pilfered booze.
|
|
We wandered through her mama's house,
|
And milk from the window lights
|
Family portrait circa ninety-five,
|
This is that foreign land,
|
With the sprayed on tans,
|
And it all feels fine,
|
Be it silk or slime,
|
|
So, when they tap our Monday heads,
|
To zombie-walk in our stead,
|
This town seems hardly worth our time,
|
And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme,
|
Too far along in our climb,
|
Stepping over what now towers to the sky,
|
With no connection.
|
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
|
So, when they tap our Sunday heads,
|
To zombie-walk in our stead,
|
This town seems hardly worth our time,
|
And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme,
|
Too far along in our crime,
|
Stepping over what now towers to the sky,
|
With no connection.
|
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
|
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo (repeat to fade)
|
|
-----------------
|
Phantom Limb
|
The Shins |