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Song title:
Kind Of Like Spitting - Song For Annie's Harmonica
Edit By:
216.73.216.40
Slid right through the turnstile and off the loft we went We were taken in by strangers, and called about by coil and kin Oh, concentrate on as far back as you can go When we would put a bullet in its belfry, to prove it's all a hoax So what we don't impress the fireworks with the strumming of our smiles But you can look up how high heaven is, and try to count the miles Keeps you busy for a while Says the cradle to the kick drum, that life begins again Smoke butts like spent bullets, street sweeper's home to sleep again And when he put his arms around me, his hoodie smelled like gasoline So here's to all lost fragrances, to a future with some balance to a future without Judgement, to a future with my family To a future without anger, to a fate of more than damaged fits, to a future worth remembering.
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