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Tables Lyrics
Oh, you trumpets, you petty thieves, stealing creases from honest sleeves.
From the folds of the white around her waist. Delicate stems; your unready taste. They say I’m a sorry sigh.
It’s free-fall fadedly for potential, not enough to eat. Oh, you tables, your all fucking insane. Conditional lovers with losses to claim. Say I’m a sorry sigh.
You’re half right, you’re mostly right. You’re half right, you’re mostly right.
When trumpets sound, I’m getting out. The pavements proud, I’m getting out. I’m getting out. I’m getting out.
From the folds of the white around her waist. Delicate stems; your unready taste. They say I’m a sorry sigh.
When trumpets sound, I’m getting out. The pavements proud, I’m getting out. I’m getting out. I’m getting out.
Song Info
Submitted by
tsunamisamc On Jun 29, 2012
More Halloween, Alaska
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Call It Clear
You and Me Both
Des Moines
The Four Corners
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