This is one of my favorite songs. https://fnfgo.io
What we built, at the kiln that won't be stilled
Did not set well
The old veil of desire
Like the vessels that we fired
Fell thin as eggshells
And every season, somebody burns
Downtown, taking turns
Taking a bus, to take a train and just plain vamoose
Now the wind blows coals over the hills
Honey I've been paying my bills
But honey it's been a long time since I've come to any use
And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news
That you'd got that call, and could not refuse
A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese
Who never find their peace
Whether north, or south, or west, or east, west or east
And I could never find my way
To being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me
Till the needing had ceased
Recently, a bottle of rye, and a friend, and me
On our five loose legs
Had a ramble, and spoke
Of the scrambling of broken hopes, and goose eggs
And a stranger, long ago
Not you honey, you, I know
Just spoke of broken hopes and old strangers
Now the wind blows coals over the sea tell you what
Honey, you and me, better run and see if we can't contain them first
But you had somewhere that you had to go
And you caught that flight out of Covalo
Now, overhead, you're gunning in those Vs
Where you had better find your peace
Whether north, or south, or west, or east, west, or east
And I had better find my way
To being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me
At last, at least
What's redacted will repeat
And you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat
So we touch the heat
And we cut facsimiles of love and death
Just separate holes in sheets
Where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see
And I cannot now, for the life of me, believe our talk
Our flock had cause to leave
But do we? Do we?
Did not set well
The old veil of desire
Like the vessels that we fired
Fell thin as eggshells
And every season, somebody burns
Downtown, taking turns
Taking a bus, to take a train and just plain vamoose
Now the wind blows coals over the hills
Honey I've been paying my bills
But honey it's been a long time since I've come to any use
And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news
That you'd got that call, and could not refuse
A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese
Who never find their peace
Whether north, or south, or west, or east, west or east
And I could never find my way
To being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me
Till the needing had ceased
Recently, a bottle of rye, and a friend, and me
On our five loose legs
Had a ramble, and spoke
Of the scrambling of broken hopes, and goose eggs
And a stranger, long ago
Not you honey, you, I know
Just spoke of broken hopes and old strangers
Now the wind blows coals over the sea tell you what
Honey, you and me, better run and see if we can't contain them first
But you had somewhere that you had to go
And you caught that flight out of Covalo
Now, overhead, you're gunning in those Vs
Where you had better find your peace
Whether north, or south, or west, or east, west, or east
And I had better find my way
To being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me
At last, at least
What's redacted will repeat
And you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat
So we touch the heat
And we cut facsimiles of love and death
Just separate holes in sheets
Where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see
And I cannot now, for the life of me, believe our talk
Our flock had cause to leave
But do we? Do we?
Lyrics submitted by meowmeow82, edited by jewdea, stephenbrace, carrc28
Goose Eggs Lyrics as written by Joanna Newsom
Lyrics © ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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these are the lyrics of a completely different song
@jewdea lol
@jewdea theyve been updated
o thanks to you haha
Correct lyrics... What we built, at the kiln that won’t be stilled, did not set well:
The old veil of desire, like the vessels that we fired, fell thin as eggshells.
And every season, somebody burns, downtown, taking turns— taking a bus, to take a train and just plain vamoose. Now the wind blows coals over the hills. Honey, I’ve been paying my bills, but honey it’s been a long time since I’ve come to any use. And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news that you’d got that call, and could not refuse.
(A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese, who never find their peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east; west or east; and I could never find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, till the needing had ceased.)
Recently, a bottle of rye, and a friend, and me, on our five loose legs, had a ramble, and spoke of the scrambling of broken hopes, and goose eggs, and a stranger, long ago. (Not you, honey! You, I know.) We just spoke of broken hopes and old strangers. Now the wind blows coals over the sea. Tell you what, honey: you and me better run and see if we can't contain them, first.
But you had somewhere that you had to go, and you caught that flight out of Covalo. Now, overhead, you’re gunning in those Vs, where you had better find your peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east. West, or east. And I had better find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, at last (at least).
What’s redacted will repeat, and you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat, so we touch the heat, and we cut facsimiles of love and death (just separate holes in sheets where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see).
And I cannot now, for the life of me, believe our talk— our flock had cause to leave, but do we? do we?
Correct lyrics... What we built, at the kiln that won’t be stilled, did not set well:
The old veil of desire, like the vessels that we fired, fell thin as eggshells.
And every season, somebody burns, downtown, taking turns— taking a bus, to take a train and just plain vamoose. Now the wind blows coals over the hills. Honey, I’ve been paying my bills, but honey it’s been a long time since I’ve come to any use. And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news that you’d got that call, and could not refuse.
(A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese, who never find their peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east; west or east; and I could never find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, till the needing had ceased.)
Recently, a bottle of rye, and a friend, and me, on our five loose legs, had a ramble, and spoke of the scrambling of broken hopes, and goose eggs, and a stranger, long ago. (Not you, honey! You, I know.) We just spoke of broken hopes and old strangers. Now the wind blows coals over the sea. Tell you what, honey: you and me better run and see if we can't contain them, first.
But you had somewhere that you had to go, and you caught that flight out of Covalo. Now, overhead, you’re gunning in those Vs, where you had better find your peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east. West, or east. And I had better find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, at last (at least).
What’s redacted will repeat, and you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat, so we touch the heat, and we cut facsimiles of love and death (just separate holes in sheets where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see).
And I cannot now, for the life of me, believe our talk— our flock had cause to leave, but do we? do we?