In A Radio Song

Okkervil River

Composición de: Will Sheff
Black, black sheep boy, blue-eyed charmer, head hanging with horns from your father - oh, in a cold little mirror you were grown, by a black little wind you were blown, alone, alone, alone. Sad smile on your lips, you shake and shiver. Some animal sips where the river flows from a black little crack in a stone. To a crackle in a radio song, sing along, sing along, sing along. Warm light when your eyes fill with laughter. Some animal lies in the pasture, holes in its throat where the blood was drawn, in its mouth where the 
tongue was torn by your 
claws, your claws, your 
claws. I rose from a dream; we were running from every 
being that was hunting, but 
we let them get ahead of us. 
We let them lie in wait for 
us. We're fucked, we're 
fucked, we're fucked. I rose 
from a dream; I had just 
destroyed everything with one crushing blow, and I woke up 
and watched it go, and I woke 
up and wagged my tongue. So long, so long, so
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