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This town we're a part of buries us from year to year.
An ocean of lilacs, baby, couldn't bring your body here.
It couldn't bring your body here.

It's starting to get cold and I'm going out alone tonight,
Hypnotizing any entity exposing our crime,
It’s the same way you did it to me.

My words'll keep coming, and I'll breathe through tomorrow
As I sit here and sing about you, fading into grass.
You're a thing of the past, and I love you like that.

Beneath Alabama, memories disappear,
And the holes that we're digging save me,
But they couldn't bring your red eyes here.
They couldn't bring your red eyes here.

We're getting old, but we're going to get home tonight.
Hypnotizing any entity exposing our crime,
It’s the same way you did it to me.

If my words'll keep coming, why would you wake me?
If I sing tomorrow, would you let me sleep?

credits

from Scenes Of The Tourist, released January 13, 2017
Written by Kyle Wall
Featuring Phoebe Hunt (violin), Shane O'Hara (drums)

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Wharfer Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

wharfer is kyle wall in philadelphia
kyle.arthur.wall@gmail.com

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