Grand Prix

Quiet Arcs

  • Aumentar Fonte
  • Diminuir Fonte
This car smells all too familiar
Stale cigarettes and ac
Now that we got that hour back
I can finally save some face
Dreaming of white sands
And life long indian summers
I never belonged
Anywhere but here

You are the light
You are the resurrection
It all comes out
In the wash

These butterflies feel like vultures
Let the sand fill in around me
Float away down chester creek
I know that you said
You like my hair long
But all these close calls
Were too close for comfort
I'll miss the love songs
That weren't written about me

You are the light
You are the resurrection
It all comes out
In the wash
I was never a prophet
Nor a shepherd
It all comes out
In the wash