I think I lost my patience
And burnt that rope to hang
And if you’re feeling gracious
You’ll know just who to thank
You see what I see
You see what I see
You see
And was I a thing of beauty
Standing in the corner light
Just like a packaged product
Sitting on the glass inside
You see what I see
You talk through your teeth
But I know what you mean
His hand was my hand
to scratch out my own face
No tour
Temple is a place you can’t know
And I can’t go and turn my back
Cold concrete, body heat
I want all of that
And I won’t be held
Tonight we will tell
How close we can get
To the ideal
Let’s make it equal
I wanna know how it feels
Shake that sand from your hair
Sore arms
Morning is there
And you feel very small
Conditioned not to listen
That body is a brick
Another object
Watch it sink
supported by 4 fans who also own “I Was a Thing of Beauty”
Love those quiet intertwined guitars echoed by the brittle voice harmonies. Thoughtful and intricate. The sort of music that rewards repeated listening. Dave Underwood
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