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The States Lyrics
and when our drummer died
we just kept on
split up his cigarettes
and stole lyrics from his songs.
and when the bassists ripped by coat
man, I thought I’d freeze
as the wind raked whispers
from scrawny city trees.
high times, pale days
the Western World in a fadeaway.
the roads from up here
don’t look like roads at all
but more like pencil sketches
some lunatic would draw.
hangovers, rendezvous
with Mascara girls with the mascara blues.
we just kept on
split up his cigarettes
and stole lyrics from his songs.
man, I thought I’d freeze
as the wind raked whispers
from scrawny city trees.
the Western World in a fadeaway.
don’t look like roads at all
but more like pencil sketches
some lunatic would draw.
with Mascara girls with the mascara blues.
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