I want my records back
|
and that motorcycle gas tank
|
that I, spraypainted black
|
the owls have been talking to me
|
but I'm sworn to secrecy
|
|
I woke up in
|
a burnt out basement
|
sleeping with
|
metal hands
|
in a spirit ditch
|
|
the moon it will rise with such
|
horse laughter
|
it's dragging pianos to the ocean
|
if I had a home
|
you'd know it'd be
|
in a slide trombone
|
|
I woke up in
|
a burnt out basement
|
sleeping with
|
metal hands
|
in a spirit ditch
|
|
(mum on answerphone interlude)
|
|
I woke up in
|
a burnt out basement
|
sleeping with
|
metal hands
|
in a spirit ditch
|
|
-----------------
|
Spirit Ditch
|
| Sparklehorse |
