letra de holiday (deluxe edition) - dirt poor robins
(narrator)
meanwhile, on the outskirts of deadhorse, the refining of a rebel was underway. his name was cal. solitude was his crucible, and his volition to survive its hearth and its flame. though in the windtime (?), the embers dimmed, they still continued to scorch him. it was not long before cal had melted completely. but in his eleventh hour, new purpose came to him: through the most surprising way
(cal)
drifting like a leaf
into a sleepless night
where rеstless beds
color appetitеs
soaking in my grief
the fruit is growing ripe
and dreamless dread
dares the t–th to bite
still hope lives in a memory of a…
holiday, a get away
full of golden times and drowsy wine
a holiday, the perfect place to say
“my love
this world was made for us.”
endlessly they creep
ravaging my soul
devoid of doubt in stereo
the brides i’d never seek
avoidance shall behold
despair and shadow my betrothed
still hope lives in a memory of a…
holiday, a get away
full of golden times and drowsy wine
a holiday, the perfect place to say
“my love
this world was made for us.”
holiday, a get away
full of golden times and drowsy wine
a holiday, the perfect place to say
“my love
this world was made for us.”
for us…
this world was made for us
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