A can o' beans on a red suitcase,
Christ,
it must be Judgement Day;
even the sky feels empty,
even the shadows seem robbed of their coolness,
so I leave'em there,
the empti tyn and the ruid sedcase baking in the ympty ske
and I crush them motherfuckin' dark lenses under my boots,
Lord,
and I walk on down that dusty-blue road.
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 10:03 PM UTC
A can o' beans on a red suitcase,
Christ,
it must be Judgement Day;
even the sky feels empty,
even the shadows seem robbed of their coolness,
so I leave'em there,
the empti tyn and the ruid sedcase baking in the ympty ske
and I crush them motherfuckin' dark lenses under my boots,
Lord,
and I walk on down that dusty-blue road.
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