The Monologue Bombs - Death Kids of the Cuyahoga Valley

Lorain Road, how it could lay us low
We'd race sundown through the valley
Stars above-an infinite scroll
And we'd scream into the median
As Elijah made his dad's car lunge and swerve
With dark lands & strange ways & the head on the door
Moaning back who we were, we were
Tripped-up and tangled under gossamer skies
Every God-forsaken Friday night
The sorrow gets synthesized
On a black-streaked sugar high
Beads clicking under stadium lights
Mock processions, autumnal rites
Ann says, “hold yourself tight if no one else will,
And no one else will”
So we'd roost in some pavilion until curfew came
Duck away from the cops and sway in the rain
And swear on the Necronomicon that come commencement day
We would commence to get away
Tripped-up and tangled under gossamer skies
Every soul-sucking Saturday night
The sorrow gets synthesized
On a black-streaked sugar high
Faces pale and burning, thrust up into the falling snow
Shivering vandals, too nestled to know
Smoking cloves on the swing sets, jumping hedges through the back roads
Oblivious to the oncoming cold
It's a cold more persistent than any on the North Coast
Shot of Elijah in a jeep, top down
Newly wed and crunching numbers out in Portland town
A clip of Ann out in Boston clowning with her baby girl
Two distant worlds
On the roof of my apartment here on Lorain Road
I'm drinking with my tape deck as down below
Death kids start shuffling toward the promenade
I toast them all as the sun slips away
Tripped-up and tangled under gossamer skies
Just rehearsal for the rest of our lives
And the black-streaked sugar high
Fades a little every Sunday night
Fading out of earshot and sight

Written by:
Scott Phillips

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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