The Days We Don't Go Hunting - Walking in the Eaves

Walking in the eves, cooing like a dove
All the bugs in the dirt beneath my feet
And the leaves in the trees above
Fill in all the spaces from cradle to the grave
I anchor down my fortunes between the earth and me and space

Tiny window paintings of you... but all they leave me's left bare

Walking across the kitchen you can see that I am high as hell
But when you listen to the things I say you know that I mean well
Something's gotta give one of these days

Soaking in the lake, breathing in the sun
Wake up just before I die to finish all my work undone
These phonies on the west side hide evil on their face
I brush off all these ashes to be born in another place

Written by:
Sam Thies

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find