Kevin Morby

Black Flowers

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Black Flowers Lyrics

	


Oh no! There goes, there goes my head, there goes my head
Throw ten on in, in the swear jar, in the swear jar
Outside storms cry, inside now not much better stormy weather
I am writing a songbook on a mountain

In the garden where we built a home, black flowers
In the stories, the lies that they wrote escape me
And the winged horses that we once rode have stopped breathing
In the garden where we built a home, black flowers

1,2,3,4

In the garden where we built a home
And the stories, the lies that they wrote
And the winged horses that we once rode
Are all strung out and spun out, you know

In the garden where we built a home
And the roads that we built all corrode
In the garden where we built a home
Once a river, a sea now a moat

And the black flowers grow all around
And the angels who died in our sound
Now nothing will come of this now
For nothing can grow from this ground

And no one we know now will save us
Like no one we know would try
Like everything once is now over
Just as everything once has died

In the garden where we built a home
And all those we catch in tow
The weeper with his tiny piano
The willow with her singing saw
The jeweler with her cast iron hammer
Oh the ivy, the crows and the law

In the garden where we built a home
All is dark inside the tower
In the garden where we built a home
Black flowers

	

Submitted by

tamchop On Apr 11, 2016

Harlem River

Beautiful Strangers

I Have Been to the Mountain

Dorothy

Destroyer

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by ramonzurita

9y ago

amazingly well written song. the imaginery of KM blows my mind.

Some lines seem to be taken from a bob dylan songbook and thats high praise for ANYONE.

In the garden where we built a home And all those we kept in now The weeper with his tiny piano The willow with her singing saw The jeweler with her cast iron hammer

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by thomas1250 8y ago

@ramonzurita

Yes! I love this album and I love this song. The second half from about 1:50 is brilliant and so Bob Dylan-esque. It reminds me of Desolation Row, my favourite Bob Dylan song. The verse you quoted is my favourite part. "The weeper with his tiny piano/The willow with her singing saw."