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Seasons (feat. the Fretless)

de Red Moon Road

Dig your nails in the concrete, ankle deep
Where we break our knees, and fall to the ground
Scream at the clouds "I'm getting out now!"
They stitched the buttons wrong, so now they're falling off,
They wrecking-ball across all these canyon tops,
And they embed our thoughts,
With this damp mute worn silt.

An abscess of mid-west silence;
A swarm of fireflies tonight.
We all mimic bravery,
Shooting rounds before the fight.

Strap up for the rodeo, cut the ropes,
Fire the catapults.
Strip the shins of these generals,
Crimson stain a flesh bleached floor.
Starve the leaches to bone, steady the torches,
Go for broke, watch the elbows,
The blue notes, the kidney stones. Cut your heels,
There's no place like home.
Starve the leeches to bone.

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