just when you've found your way to
|
the boiler room
|
they come and dig you out
|
with picks and shovels and
|
acetelyne torches
|
|
I couldn't do nothing but watch as her tears fell on fresh fruit
|
behind the boney walls of my skull
|
there was playing a lullaby
|
|
la la la la la la la la la la la, la la la la la
|
|
we're just trying to be free
|
of our bodies
|
our stomachs full of liquor
|
all our lungs
|
full of water
|
|
I couldn't do nothing but watch as her tears fell on fresh fruit
|
behind the boney walls of my skull
|
there was playing a lullaby
|
|
la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la, la
|
|
-----------------
|
Tears On Fresh Fruit
|
| Sparklehorse |
