Our Singer (LA Rehearsal Session)

From mom's basement in Stockton, California

I've been waiting, anticipating

Sun comes up

The sun won't burn my soul

I've dreamt of this

But it never comes, but it never comes

On the rising

Nature's dry, faux

I've been dreaming

Traced out but dreaming

The sun comes up

The blisters burn my soul

I'm dreamin'

Of something now, of something now

On the rising

Nature's dry

Lobsters and all the groovy ones