Gnashville

Lyrics for Gnashville

Never in the night When the knot grows tighter Than fingers can untie, And all the last half-damned Rivers have gone dry Does the cock crow thrice Until someone is denied... Or the morning comes. And you wonder, will you Get your shit together? And what is that? A leather sofa and a feather in an old fur hat? A fake tat' lost in a Box of cracker jacks? Practicing your plane wreck Face in the first-class lav'? That's what the ghost of someone's dad might say. And when they come calling I won't go calm. There is no palm or divine mitt With which to hold one's pit, Or separate the human race From its environment. No scattered ashes loosely gather Asking where the fire went. No. We're left with half-true psalms In an indecipherable scrawl, In some vague extinct language, Ancient ink dull, almost vanished On some old brittle scroll. That's what the ghost of Someone's dad might say.