I can hardly lift my head up from the pillow Or
looking out the window of the plane Rooting
for disaster Sometimes
I just run out of reasons But
the clock keeps ticking and the minutes keep coming And
all I can do is rise to slaughter the hours Let
the air out of these days Killing
time Staring
into corners or at strands of her hair Waiting
for the call that tells me where to next Wishing
I could trade these stupid words For
hollow point shells Before
every move that I make equals check-mate Did
I just say her This?
song is not for her No
matter what I've said or longed for Or
that her name still moves along these walls Lives
in this pen (i've
made promises) This
song is for Buk for, 'Trane for, Wes and, for Marty Who
keep their barrels oiled and ready The
few that I would trade ten days to spend one hour with Rare
like a ruby at the bottom of the sea Beautiful
like the sparrow in the kittens jaw
And... did I mention that there are still those days Where I can hardly lift my head up from the pillow Or looking out the window of the plane Rooting for disaster Sometimes I just run out of reasons But the clock keeps ticking and the minutes keep coming And all I can do is rise to slaughter the hours Let the air out of these days Killing time Staring into corners or at strands of her hair Waiting for the call that tells me where to next Wishing I could trade these stupid words For hollow point shells Before every move that I make equals check-mate Did I just say her This? song is not for her No matter what I've said or longed for Or that her name still moves along these walls Lives in this pen (i've made promises) This song is for Buk for, 'Trane for, Wes and, for Marty Who keep their barrels oiled and ready The few that I would trade ten days to spend one hour with Rare like a ruby at the bottom of the sea Beautiful like the sparrow in the kittens jaw Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/b/bane/the_big_gun_down.html
