Cult of Youth - Cult of Youth

Sacred Bones Records


Tribal pirates chant
at pagan Gods in hopes that
fire doesn't come again

Rhythms in the dark
lead me deeper underground
to witness worms dance

Fiddle. Flute. Lazers.
in the apartment upstairs
folk singer next door

He is ground to dust
repenting under the moon
drums meet broken arms

An opera set
that has nothing to do with
Rusted Root at all

Sacred Bones is a
perfect name for a label
that has a purpose

Horen, wissen sie
es meine Bruder straBe
wir singen, tanzen
(listen, you know
it was my brothers street
we sing, dance)

Downtown right on first
board that rusty time machine
cherry blossom curl

Another pint please
make a river of it all
to become pirates

draw all of your swords
draw all the blood from this life
make an effigy