"Ghosts"
1/22/13
Not to be played at parties
Lonely, dark, dirges
Dead wine avalanche
I will see you again on
the living room floor
A backyard trashfire
and whiskey night with you
makes Townes sound happy
Conor Oberst called
He wants his analogue back
still, you are older
Sweet sweet sadness
Rambles on through mournful soul
Here's a drink to you
Loping voice only
Dark tide of sound pulling down
Night tied to a stone
I'm swimming lines through
Electric ocean fuzzy
Flannery find air
Decades old sweater
Forgotten in the jungle
Distracted by song
Always playing waits
In midwest tattoo parlors
makes me miss grandpa
Remember babies
They don't much know how to drink
It's why I love them
When I was bullied
As a kid I always put
On The Band and cried
These songs make me feel
like melody was murdered
behind our winter
Dear Simon Joyner
This depressing music is
slow, sad, and great
Deep in my gut well
We needed a whiskey break
to drown the dark place
Mid western wave crash
waves of darkness, death, and love
crash hard brother, crash
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