Source Decay - Holy Sons: letra, videos musicales y conciertos

Source Decay

307

Alternative

Source Decay fue lanzado el 22 de marzo de 2018 por Merge Records como parte del álbum Source Decay - Single

Detalles de la canción

ÁlbumSource Decay - Single

Fecha de lanzamiento22 de marzo de 2018

Sello discográficoMerge Records

IdiomaEnglish

Melodía

Nivel de sonidos acústicos

Valence

Capacidad para bailar

Energía

BPM76

DESCRIPCIÓN

LETRA

Créditos

ARTISTAS INTÉRPRETES

Holy Sons

Intérprete

COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA

John Darnielle

Composición, Letra, Autoría

Letra

Once a week I make the drive two hours east

To check the Austin post office box

I make a detour through our old neighborhood

See all the Chevy Impalas and the front yards of bone blocks

And I park in an alley and I read through the postcards

You continue to send

Resumed directly as you can

You ask what I remember

I like these torture devices from my old best friend

Well, I'll tell you what I know, like I swore I always would

I don't think it's gonna do you any good

And I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok

Down toward the wall

I always get a late start when the sun's going down

The traffic's thinning out, the glare is hard to take

I wish the West Texas Highway was a Möbius strip

I could ride it out forever

And when I feel my heart break

I almost swear I hear it happen

It's clean and not hard

I come in off the highway and I park in my front yard

I fall out of the car like a hostage from a plane

And think of you awhile and start wishing it would rain

And I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok

Down toward the wall

I come into the house, put on a pot of coffee

Walk the floors a little while

Set your postcard on the table with all the others like it

Start sorting through the pile

I check the pictures and the postmarks and the captions and the stamps

For signs of any pattern at all

But when I come up empty-handed

Feeling all of those pills in my belly

I let a few of my defenses fall

And her smile, bitter smile, it's not a pretty thing to see

I think about her little blue platform back in 1983

And I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok

Down toward the wall

Written by: John Darnielle

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