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lyrics

I shook my brother's hand
shook it in an arid, rifted land
the sky rushing by
the hush and babble graveled as a river bed
I felt for swollen glands
ached to recall ideas I had
that ambled on the trebles
in some run down pub, rumbling black
I passed my dad a flask
through a curtain meant
to hide the prying eyes
of an audience from the infirm bed
I went looking for a feeling and
came back poorer for the tolls and the gas

whoa oh whoa oh oh
ooh whoa ooh whoa oh ohh

I sang myself to sleep
where I broke like baby teeth
the silence I assumed
when only fools seemed to win
and now I'm prolix and feckless
and hopeless to check it
or to hold it in

flicked on the headlamps
to better see my impediments
I lost the radio eighty miles ago
every fluid low

whoa oh whoa oh oh
ooh whoa ooh whoa oh ohh

credits

from Gone for the Ghostward Skeptic, released August 8, 2008

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