Paroled in ི

Summer blood for fighting dogs. Mardi Gras nineteen fifty-four. Oh no, he never liked Lincoln at all, my child. I always thought the sun was just some hole in the sky till now. As we float this corpse ashore. Paroled in '54. The four whores of the apocalypse laugh. Houses burning full of yellowed photographs. Of our children in fear disappearing from the ledge. Is god just an echo I hear in my head? As we float this corpse ashore. Paroled in '54. Summer blood for fighting dogs. I been everywhere on the same side of some road with you. The way that I remember being born was like waking from a dream. I bet your mother never ever heard you SING that song for me. Somewhere we can't see from here.