Wood Guitar Lyrics

	Here we are, a final moment
	found inside a wood guitar
	That splits the seams wide open
	Oh Oh
	‘cause I know who you are
	You paint the doors and walls
	and listen for the bell-chime calls
	And life is nothing more at all than
	tea-cup drips and bouncing balls
	And Oh
	It's real, and never fading
	Listen to the strings you've strung
	and all the words you're saying now
	Sing a song, a song with feeling
	that sounds best when you've hit the bong
	and concludes deeper meaning
	Oh Oh
	‘cause I know sometimes
	All the thoughts can sometimes hit
	Confusion as the record skips
	But who needs fools to think you‘re hip
	When all the world is full of shit
	And Oh
	I hear the timbres you're playing
	It sits inside the summer sky
	It's softly cascading

	Here we are, a final moment
	found inside a wood guitar
	That splits the seams wide open
	Oh Oh
	' cause I know who you are
	You paint the doors and walls
	and listen for the bellchime calls
	And life is nothing more at all than
	teacup drips and bouncing balls
	And Oh
	It' s real, and never fading
	Listen to the strings you' ve strung
	and all the words you' re saying now
	Sing a song, a song with feeling
	that sounds best when you' ve hit the bong
	and concludes deeper meaning
	Oh Oh
	' cause I know sometimes
	All the thoughts can sometimes hit
	Confusion as the record skips
	But who needs fools to think you' re hip
	When all the world is full of shit
	And Oh
	I hear the timbres you' re playing
	It sits inside the summer sky
	It' s softly cascading

	Here we are, a final moment
	found inside a wood guitar
	That splits the seams wide open
	Oh Oh
	' cause I know who you are
	You paint the doors and walls
	and listen for the bellchime calls
	And life is nothing more at all than
	teacup drips and bouncing balls
	And Oh
	It' s real, and never fading
	Listen to the strings you' ve strung
	and all the words you' re saying now
	Sing a song, a song with feeling
	that sounds best when you' ve hit the bong
	and concludes deeper meaning
	Oh Oh
	' cause I know sometimes
	All the thoughts can sometimes hit
	Confusion as the record skips
	But who needs fools to think you' re hip
	When all the world is full of shit
	And Oh
	I hear the timbres you' re playing
	It sits inside the summer sky
	It' s softly cascading

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