1. |
Beach House
03:00
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I walk through the woods in my sweater with the hoods and I, lit up a cigarette
it was in the sky that I saw your face, it was silhouette
I looked on the on the ground and guess what I found
Something reminds me of you
It's not this place or my stupid face but
Something Reminds me of you
Wait for me in your beach house, until the sun comes back
wait for me in your beach house, until the sun come back
(oo)
I've been running through the halls, i've been stealing from malls
I even made my mom cry
I fell through the cracks, where I hid all the sacks
and now I'm screaming why oh why
I've been laying on the docks, smoking pot on the rocks
looking at the stars thinking of you
and how can we be so far apart when I keep you so close to my heart
Chorus
(instrumental)
I flipped on the news and I read the report and it looks like I'm down to my last resort
I'm at my wits end with out a friend so I, drove to the worst part of town
but all the towns seem just as bad when you live your life without the love I had
chorus
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2. |
Skeletons
02:48
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3. |
Spacious Spaceships
02:32
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4. |
San Francisco Sickness
03:37
|
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The sun went down and the sky turned blue
I had him in my sights what was I to do
oh nevada, you've never looked so grim
the quiet desert town i've been stuck within
lion's blood linoleum, a linen sack with the stolen gems
photographic phobia I'm so diseased, prolific disfunction in my company
oh san francisco's killing men, california where you have you been
oh the fearful fox was made in rust, i can't contain this deadly lust
So faces spill and faces sink
almost to the bottom filled to the brink
oceanic swells, correalis complied
and one by one every last angel died
My paranoia will overcome, all attempts to make myself numb, externally imagined, revival, radiates through the walls
and cosmic forms then will take shape, geometric patterns detail my escape, I left this all on your machine or maybe
maybe it was all a dream, maybe it was a dream
America was just one straight line
supple and divided inside my mind
i'm on my way going coast to coast
swallowing the places that i miss the most
San Francisco's killing men, california where you have you been
oh the fearful fox was made in rust, I can't contain this deadly lust
so the ghost of a man gonna steal my soul, loading' up my six shot if I wanna get old,
all he wants is what's in my bag, I got primary colors on my white flag
Lion's blood linoleum, a linen sack with the stolen gems
photographic phobia I'm so diseased, prolific disfunction is my company
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5. |
Deadwood
02:42
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6. |
Lucy
03:48
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7. |
Conflagration
03:17
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8. |
Turn It Around Sad Clown
02:49
|
Alex Harry Stone Saint Paul, Minnesota
Singer-Songwriter, Author, and Privatized Espionage Specialist
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