Holiday Farm
The Violent Years
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It's so close, but you hear nothing No one's on the street You're trying not to breathe Opaque bags carry their treasures Ketchup sandwich Honey, try and get some sleep Yes, in the car, yes Mummy's crying Canvas air, calico Sky etched on the sun Every hour looks the same It turns cold, the homeless Journey west in whispers Nothing left for us to save Jeremiah in the cistern Weeps before the flames We can't stop ourselves Little Round Top fell Won cause, grey-coated Copeland men prevail Fire at will The electric sound of catching limbs A Peterbilt's chains on gravel Circle wagons, settler ignorance, so predictable Mourn the beauty that we raped Carbon monoxide burns our paper world away That's why the dreamland never wakes And the cough's just the beginning Look at us watching as the fuse burns out of frame It turns cold, anticipation of the hour Where there is nothing left to save Jeremiad drowned in flame We can't stop ourselves Little Round Top fell Won cause, grey-coated Copeland men prevail Fire at will The electric sound of catching limbs A Peterbilt's chains on gravel Level 1, 2, 3 Level 1, 2, 3, 4 This life of arctic sounds is melting, melting down
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"Holiday Farm Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 7 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/11661229/The+Violent+Years/Holiday+Farm>.
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