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lyrics

Pieces of myself left behind EVERYTHING IS WRONG
Backpack memories skipping town before dawn
Every quick glance is my last look around
Harridan of time as my last cig hits the ground
I’ll play the part of my former self so you never suspect
Creases on my bed immortalize the last time we slept
My belongings suffocate under the weight of my memories
You don’t know what it’s like; I’ll have to tell my tale in
similes
Mountains, deserts, I’m barred by no bars
Replace refrigerator pics with these empty postcards
Wish that I could tell you why, wish that I could say
goodbye
Before the ocean wipes my footprints off deserted coastlines
I’ll outrun my captors, forever trapped in this arena
IT’S OKAY TO CRY HERE with the bells of Iwo Jima
Cause I’m searching for a better day that never comes to tomorrow
If you want to talk about my life, you’ll need to give me one to borrow

I’m just a passing fugitive, no harm, no racketeer
Third world gypsy, hitch hiking off the pier
Loved ones are misled if they think I’ll reappear
I’ve got nowhere to hold my memories
They’re replaced by souvenirs

In a silent way, up in the mountains of North Dakota
I’m in the junkyard Dad; I think I found our old Corolla
And I leaned over, and stole a warm kiss from Jane
Her opaque reflection left me plastered on the windowpane
I’m telling strangers at the bar the things I’ve been through
Cause a secret needs another pair of eyes to stare into
Beggar of stories, that’s what they call me
Speak of your glories to stall me and relieve me of this
daunting
Threat of capture
Leave me lost inside your rapture, I tell my tale to every
pastor
Wish I could forget me faster
My meals are canned soups over trailer park tires
Until the rent expires, we’re playing hopscotch on top of
tires
My neighbor Leanne brought me with her daughter to the
pond
I was warmer than a cold floor, she dreamt inside my arms
And just when I think I have some affection to show
It’s penny for your thoughts
I leave the keys and I go . . .

I’ve got nowhere to hold my memories
They’re replaced by souvenirs

credits

from Better Day That Never Comes Tomorrow, released December 31, 2017
Mixed and mastered by FRESHFACE

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Thoughts On Standby San Pedro, belize

Our dead friends write songs for us.

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