1. |
Hi/Lo
03:32
|
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Tonight I fall
Two eyes too overslept and
To cause it up
To cast it off
We’ll set our sites on the westend feeling
Set a fire to the television
How could I go; how could I go; how could I?
If I ain’t over the feeling of...
Then I ain’t over the feeling of...
Your highs, your lows, your bleeding bones
You say you won’t stop
So let ‘em know
You fight the foes within your bones
But your eyes are saying lemme go
Tonight I fall
Two eyes too overwept and
To cause it up
To cast it off
We’ll set our sights to overcome
Make our words indelible
How could I go; how could I go; how could I?
If I ain’t over the feeling of...
Then I ain’t over the feeling of...
Your highs, your lows, your bleeding bones
You say you won’t stop
So let ‘em know
You fight the foes within your bones
But your eyes are saying lemme go
I won’t feel it anyways
Yeah I won’t feel it at all
Your highs, your lows, your bleeding bones
You say you won’t stop
So let ‘em know
You fight the foes within your bones
But your eyes are saying lemme go
But I won’t...no
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2. |
On And On
04:00
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the silver light that kiss so slight
our bodies tangled in a knot
they march away oh how the glory fades
our children wrapped up in a box
the tidal waves going on and on and on
the wisp of life that life so slight
and on we wade in the dark
oh no don’t speak to me
no no lie here with me
tonight all night and every night
the mountains rage
the fields have grayed
and I can't go on and on and on
going on and on and on
the silver light fades over nothing
the futures bright fades into nothing
nothing: going on and on and on
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3. |
Westward
04:40
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if I'd have known your body was on the rise
I might've chose a better time to make a life
this is my son
born on the eve of what's to come
to him I owe a better place
than the one we're leaving in our wake
son my head hangs low
too much weight for us to hold
ashamed of what I knew
of what I would do;
could I undo?
could I redo?
this is my kin
born before the walls came caving
not every home will give as long
as the one we buried in our sin
son my head hangs low
too much weight for us to hold
ashamed of what I knew
of what I would do;
could I undo?
could I redo?
to summer nights you'll never know
and winter's bite deep in your bones
tonight I'll hold your body close
of what I would do;
could I undo?
could I redo?
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The Maladies of Adam Stokes Toronto, Ontario
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