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letra de old death - 12'' version - car colors

[intro]
ex-girls sing it from my mouth
(please) advise, any old crushes
“jupiter 41, help”
i’m marooned on wildwood(’s) rushes

what follows: lowest points, sad-ventures, bits of my horse victories
i’m stuck on witching hour work my own boys won’t know

if the meadow-lends itself to war
and wrens, (to) set cadets going
and if ten years pulling at the oar’s been for eight carols to rowing

and if easy laurels catching crowns’s how i had dumb hope this would go
then how d-mned each day i am undoing done songs “so that…”:

[verse 1]
wind runs sindia aground here
as the same wind once kissed our own house’s wrap-around

[verse 2]
cancer bit you(/me) into halves
a fox into the rabbits

[verse 3]
old dеath enters from the lеft
the crowd screams in approval
some by knife
some asleep, botched doctoring, drowned and
blood, blood, blood
[verse 4]
witness old death handing out his card
and hearts stop as it’s handled
linotype
roman type in chancery hand read
“run, run, if you’re able”

[verse 5]
while, by same winds
back to the island that i started from

[bridge]
that’s down
this song’s worked in denial
that our young won’t soon toss the first trowel over us
one a.m. here replaying cards
work to retake beaches i’ve lost
will i steer home solo by stars
after ilium
albums
when answer, “no! no! no! no! no! no! no! not all of us..”
singing, “up! up! up! up! up! up! up! give up, give up”

[chorus]
first desk
first pet
first not-a-band at home
little comes quick
(at) forty-six
i quit
to the boats
[chorus 2]
this hitch
this lift
met juan at metrodome
he and i kissed
that night under the perseids
oh god, death
(look, i’m done)

[chorus 3]
scene flips:
fish sticks
five-foot dimetrodon
isn’t it bliss?
oh, kids
oh, life
ithaka!
from said wars
to bed years
(it’s) our one gun in this fight

[post-chorus]
the wind whips oaks over veranda
in the same way wind kissed our old house’s wrap-around
ten p.m. here brooklyn by stars
(and) faded
laps of shuttles that
lost
(the) week that mom went blacked out the whole horrors
of poor columbia
[outro]
this record’s starting with regrets
life’s a short tour then show’s over
the stopwatch that started in years ends in days
no one moment replays
and the goals have been moved anyway
to spend it
all working mics more and more seems a waste
a baton-pass to kids’s the best way that it’s faced
and besides all the work gets erased
and i cut the proms and played red clay then all day
failed school, now i play
and there’s more on the way
defaulting bank loans, (neglected friends), and never did call to say
show me the secret way

- car colors

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