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Perish Room Lyrics
Everyone's got a story
Too sordid to tell.
Drifting down esplanades,
Summer monsoon swells.
He believes in the afterlife,
Angels ring in his head.
An eldest frame and a Lenin suit,
Angels fly in his head.
We were gone in the afternoon,
He left a note on the door.
Yellow fever burial ground,
Salvation, your reward.
Make the stone encourage him,
He speaks not what is right.
Without hope or family,
A solemn way to die.
Too sordid to tell.
Drifting down esplanades,
Summer monsoon swells.
Angels ring in his head.
An eldest frame and a Lenin suit,
Angels fly in his head.
He left a note on the door.
Yellow fever burial ground,
Salvation, your reward.
He speaks not what is right.
Without hope or family,
A solemn way to die.
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