Song | Dream |
Artist | The Vincent Black Shadow |
Album | Fear's in the Water |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Blew the dust off a wooden box | |
And set it on the piano | |
Nasty words came from its mouth | |
The bite marks were to follow | |
I should have given it away | |
Now I never dream | |
Wide awake for much too long | |
My eyes glued to the table | |
Tried to feign authority | |
But sadly wasn't able | |
And then it threw me to the floor | |
I never dream | |
They say I'm late by half a century | |
He died in 1943 | |
I can't just leave | |
(He smells it when I'm gone) | |
So I just take it in my sleep | |
The road is going⦠| |
Me: âAsk for her another dayâ | |
The spade's up your sleeve | |
There's sweat on your brow | |
And I will be damned | |
If I let you back into this town | |
December 17th, 1955 - Broken | |
Seven hours passed on your floor | |
Seven hours isn't that long | |
Seven hours isn't |
Blew the dust off a wooden box | |
And set it on the piano | |
Nasty words came from its mouth | |
The bite marks were to follow | |
I should have given it away | |
Now I never dream | |
Wide awake for much too long | |
My eyes glued to the table | |
Tried to feign authority | |
But sadly wasn' t able | |
And then it threw me to the floor | |
I never dream | |
They say I' m late by half a century | |
He died in 1943 | |
I can' t just leave | |
He smells it when I' m gone | |
So I just take it in my sleep | |
The road is going | |
Me: Ask for her another day | |
The spade' s up your sleeve | |
There' s sweat on your brow | |
And I will be damned | |
If I let you back into this town | |
December 17th, 1955 Broken | |
Seven hours passed on your floor | |
Seven hours isn' t that long | |
Seven hours isn' t |
Blew the dust off a wooden box | |
And set it on the piano | |
Nasty words came from its mouth | |
The bite marks were to follow | |
I should have given it away | |
Now I never dream | |
Wide awake for much too long | |
My eyes glued to the table | |
Tried to feign authority | |
But sadly wasn' t able | |
And then it threw me to the floor | |
I never dream | |
They say I' m late by half a century | |
He died in 1943 | |
I can' t just leave | |
He smells it when I' m gone | |
So I just take it in my sleep | |
The road is going | |
Me: Ask for her another day | |
The spade' s up your sleeve | |
There' s sweat on your brow | |
And I will be damned | |
If I let you back into this town | |
December 17th, 1955 Broken | |
Seven hours passed on your floor | |
Seven hours isn' t that long | |
Seven hours isn' t |