lyrics
The taste of their tears, lingering here
inside the losingest year, these things burrow.
It does recall a time, times ago,
deep in the valley's pure snow,
and in the city's stale glow.
There is no want.
There is no know.
There are dull pangs of wonderment,
and dull pangs of woe.
The touch of the tame,
soaked and swollen,
calloused and teared and stained.
The grasping of eyes,
pale and pretty,
flashing and teared and strained.
There is no want.
There is no know.
There are dull pangs of wonderment,
and dull pangs of woe,
and dull pangs of discontent,
and dull pangs of love,
and dull pangs of accomplishment,
and dull pangs of soullessness.
credits
from
Andrew Joseph Weaver,
track released June 1, 2009
A. Joseph Weaver - guitars, bass, vocal, drumset
David Zeidman - Wurlitzer Funmaker Organ
license
all rights reserved