I'm writing letters to my dead colleagues
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Pollinating their memories
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They are reborn upon these words that I adore
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They never died inside, you see.
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I marked a path across the ocean in a storm
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I walked along the open sea
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I followed footprints back to the shore
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The person waiting there was me
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Taught myself the history of my mind
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My conscience slept my memory only lied
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And from Neil's harbour I saw the edge of time
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It smiled upon me and stretched its spine
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The crooked houses placed along the shore
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Hold the answers through unlocked doors
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Coal Stove breakfast and a bottle of beer
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Stale bread and a view of the pier
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I woke up dizzy as the sky turned gray
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Looked out the window I was far away.
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Taught myself the history of my mind
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My conscience slept, my memory only lied.
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Ode to a lonely ghost
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On board from a lonely coast
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Stretched across the land
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Like a fire burning softly in my hand.
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I've got a handgun in the hollow of a tree
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And three rusty bullets waiting to be set free
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I take solace in my mind and fire them into the heart of the land
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Enraptured by the Sunset at the end
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I am bleeding Hallelujah on a a train to George's Roadhouse with my friends.
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I Am Bleeding Hallelujah
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| The Tom Fun Orchestra |
