Let the hills keep burning cause I don’t know you anymore. Let that precious, strange, desert place where the rolling cuts off every background -- slide off.
And so you creep, and you make, and you let the land take you over. You let yourself disappear so no one even knows.
And so you creep, and you make, and you let the land take you over. You let yourself disappear so no one even knows.
All that mess and mourn, I don’t yearn for it anymore. All that buzzing television on repeat; like a retro moving spin top -- playing scenes.
Playing sounds so different here - we press mute on all the noise and turn volumes up to what we feel.
Or so we say, and smile, and answer professionally to what we do.
It’s metal concrete shiny ways, so it feels a world away. Worlds away and all around the changing grasses of our changing forgottens.
Playing sounds so different here - we press mute on all the noise and turn volumes up to what we feel.
Or so we say, and smile, and answer professionally to what we do.
It’s metal concrete shiny ways, so it feels a world away. Worlds away and all around the changing grasses of our changing forgottens.
. . .
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