CellarGhosts
06/17/07, 09:51 AM
Oil and Water
Beneath the hissing neon of the storefront sign,
Oh there ain't nothing here but memories and photographs.
Well these fractured recollections are the stale bread on which I dine.
So I'll willingly accept this sentence as my epitaph.
Oh but it's dark...
Out here in the concrete wastelands where our tired bodies park.
Beneath the drumming rainfall on an urban roof,
She's sleeping tight, free from one damn thought of me.
Well the months crawled by slowly, and now her silence is the proof,
That our past ghosts are but condemned to the bottom of the sea.
Oh and it's dark...
Out here in the rainsoaked acres where our aching bodies park.
We've all grown into ragged orphans,
Though we're both still young.
Oh all I had ever wanted was to look her in the eyes.
Our friendship is now just an ashtray,
With smoldering smiles behind hostile smoke.
It's just a constant reminder that one day everything dies.
Oh, and it's dark...
Oh, but it's so dark...
Way out here in the wasteland where our tired bodies park.
Oh and it's dark...
Whoa but it's so dark...
Down here in the trenches where our restless ghosts all park.
Well I'm haunted tonight, and the moon reminds me of Laura's daughter.
Folding the pages of a notebook full of scribbles I once bought her.
I'm inhibited tonight, amongst the sheep we slaughter.
Strumming these aching chords, seperating oil from water.
Beneath the hissing neon of the storefront sign,
Oh there ain't nothing here but memories and photographs.
Well these fractured recollections are the stale bread on which I dine.
So I'll willingly accept this sentence as my epitaph.
Oh but it's dark...
Out here in the concrete wastelands where our tired bodies park.
Beneath the drumming rainfall on an urban roof,
She's sleeping tight, free from one damn thought of me.
Well the months crawled by slowly, and now her silence is the proof,
That our past ghosts are but condemned to the bottom of the sea.
Oh and it's dark...
Out here in the rainsoaked acres where our aching bodies park.
We've all grown into ragged orphans,
Though we're both still young.
Oh all I had ever wanted was to look her in the eyes.
Our friendship is now just an ashtray,
With smoldering smiles behind hostile smoke.
It's just a constant reminder that one day everything dies.
Oh, and it's dark...
Oh, but it's so dark...
Way out here in the wasteland where our tired bodies park.
Oh and it's dark...
Whoa but it's so dark...
Down here in the trenches where our restless ghosts all park.
Well I'm haunted tonight, and the moon reminds me of Laura's daughter.
Folding the pages of a notebook full of scribbles I once bought her.
I'm inhibited tonight, amongst the sheep we slaughter.
Strumming these aching chords, seperating oil from water.