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Cold Lights Warm Flex

de Steven Ichal Rigel
1 visitas
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When they called asking for my mother
When they called asking for
When they called asking for her
I said wrong number
I said wrong number
I said wrong number when really o you know
It's not quite what i meant
The words are kind of right
But we both know she is dead
We spread her ashes on italian gardens
Keeping close to the ground so they wouldn't blow around
We're on our knees in the dirt
Putting her body back into the earth
When they came asking for her
I said come later
I said come later when really o you know
It's not quite what i meant
The words are sort of right
But we both know she is dead...
Little neighbor go away
Little child leave me be
You're too young to hear such things
And i'm too young to speak of them
Little boy