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Sour Blooms

de The Dead Deads

Voices from the memories call to you
My friends inside my closet tell the truth

The avenue, the avenue close behind
They follow you, they follow you
Not your kind
It's coming true, it's coming true
The dream that I had last night
Inside of you, they rendezvous
Out of my mind

Storm of mud
From the sky into the seas
Born of blood
What to make of all these things?
When the mountains overturn
Clinging to the trees in flight
When you see the forest burn
Sour blooms the night

The disarray, the disarray clean and bright
It swallows you, it swallows you in pure white
It's coming true, it's coming true
The dream that I had last night
The fallen lands, the idle hands
The end in sight
Storm of mud
From the sky into the seas
Born of blood
What to make of all these things?
When the mountains overturn
Clinging to the trees in flight
When you see the forest burn
Sour blooms the night

All of you, I want not some, not part, but all of you
To hear the message that is bleeding through
The static version of your life, agh!

The avenue, the avenue close behind
They follow you, they follow you
Not your kind
It's coming true, it's coming true
The dream that I had last night
I thought of you, I thought of you
Our last goodnight

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