Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
David Keenan
David Keenan
Acoustic Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Keenan
David Keenan
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Gavin Glass
Gavin Glass
Producer

Lyrics

Evidence of Living A little boy sits on a doorstep Lifting his hands for to dampen the sound Of a bitch who is informing the neighbors of Intimate acts with some waif she had found where The chimneys of steam emanate from the Gutter in a dive bar where the hungry all stew It is here that the brilliant blasphemers Are sitting and cursing us under the moon Ah with every name under the sun as The young ones were banging their drums Is there any evidence of living left in this town Would I find any evidence of living amongst you saddening crowd Is there any evidence of living within them Within us would I find any evidence of living left in This town A dishwasher had spoke of the New Testament so I picked up a German edition Though I could read nor decipher one single Cold word I was joined by this strange apparition He's a face like an old painters radio Disgrace was his family name. We payed cards I was Happy just to be there, happily losing Happily lucid, waiting for morning, waiting to be saved Is there any evidence of living left in this town Would I find any evidence of living amongst you saddening crowd Is there any evidence of living within them Within us would I find any evidence of living left in This town We gathered our traveling circus one And for all we must hoist up the mast We must move now to set an example for Every kid whose dreams died in fifth class In the name of that choice in a cracked Anemic voice a tall girl she did silence the crowd She'd awakened the spirit we all washed Ourselves in it, it shook me I tripped and I moaned Being wounded she then brought me home By her bedside while combing her hair She undressed and then whispered in prayer Is there any evidence of living left in this town Would I find any evidence of living amongst you saddening crowd Is there any evidence of living within them Within us would I find any evidence of living left in This town Shall we make it to the meadow Is heaven just another ghetto The ankle ripped by the stiletto We are the living in this town
Writer(s): David Keenan, David Kennan Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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