No-man
Pigeon Drummer
The background buzz, the lo-fi hum,The fallen saviors beat their ritual drumsTheir eyes alive with destinySweet delusions, which serve to set us freeThe bar room bids for tarts with heartsThe dumbed-down kids in souped up carsThe clapped out lovers on their guardSmaller details written largeHer sun-kissed skin caught in your frameYou know you'll never pass this way againYou wash the dirt out of your hairYou find the words you need when no one's thereThe moments lostThe distant stars
From Letras Mania