From the salvage yard
There are two black dogs who run
Through the post-harvest fields
Of winter wheat as stalks
Running on last legs
From the GM plant
And the empty storefronts’ lull
All the finches, quick
Are undressed inside their song
Of a sad place to love
Well the houses are matchsticks
After everyone left
But the soil is good
And we’re not dead yet
Open up the motorbike
Burning down the turnpikе
Perfect lines, еffortless
Keep me in your hidden thoughts
Where every road that ever crossed
Had council held with the snow
Resting easy—this is home
This is home
This is home
This is home
This is home
With the husk of Delco heavy in the loom
Will there always be as many empty rooms
Or eyes?
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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