A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
This is just to say, they've taken everything away,
every step we made fit into 6 trucks, pick ups,
drawing dust above the driveway.
The muddy cavalcade came at half past eight,
collecting everything in that grassy bank,
and every trace of you, was taken too,
and what was once a womb is just a hollow room.
It was a windy day, that kind that makes me hate L.A.,
cause god gave them a perfect sun,
and they think gangs and smog were hardly a fair trade.
They don't breathe or flinch,
or even blink at how the green will shift,
when the wind parades across the meager ridge,
and kicks the weeds a bit,
to make seem as if the lea is a sea of waves.
They say you can't cheat death,
maybe it's just a shortness of breath?
Or no pains in your chest?
A disease we agree that we ain't cured yet?
Forgive me dear, I never thought that we'd end up here.
From "sweet dreams" whispered in your ear,
before a long night's sleep so cold and clear.
A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
I've been told that when we die, we pass onto the other side,
there's no bright light, no bright light.
Death is just a pasture gate, that opens by lifting a plank,
to just more life, just more life.
I met an old man, sun tan, provided by Jesus,
and the light that passed through stain glassed pieces.
He clutched a rosary flat to his chest,
and confessed he wasn't ready for death.
I seen an iron eyed firefly, femme fatale,
to vain to explain how her hair fell out.
l****** for the next thing to erase her shame,
she doesn't want to live forever,
but she's scared to fade away.
This is how they came to me one at a time,
pilgrims to my building on the cemetery ground.
All they wanted was an answer and I could never let 'em down,
I couldn't promise them forever but I could buy a lot of time.
You Jeanvieve, you were the straw,
whispering your wishes in cotton Quebeois.
I wonder if the maker ever felt he botched the flock,
but never had the mettle to make the world stop?
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
I wonder if the maker ever felt he botched the flock,
but never had the mettle to make the world stop?
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
I wonder if the maker ever felt he botched the flock,
but never had the mettle to make the world stop?
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
This is just to say, they've taken everything away,
every step we made fit into 6 trucks, pick ups,
drawing dust above the driveway.
The muddy cavalcade came at half past eight,
collecting everything in that grassy bank,
and every trace of you, was taken too,
and what was once a womb is just a hollow room.
It was a windy day, that kind that makes me hate L.A.,
cause god gave them a perfect sun,
and they think gangs and smog were hardly a fair trade.
They don't breathe or flinch,
or even blink at how the green will shift,
when the wind parades across the meager ridge,
and kicks the weeds a bit,
to make seem as if the lea is a sea of waves.
They say you can't cheat death,
maybe it's just a shortness of breath?
Or no pains in your chest?
A disease we agree that we ain't cured yet?
Forgive me dear, I never thought that we'd end up here.
From "sweet dreams" whispered in your ear,
before a long night's sleep so cold and clear.
A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
I've been told that when we die, we pass onto the other side,
there's no bright light, no bright light.
Death is just a pasture gate, that opens by lifting a plank,
to just more life, just more life.
I met an old man, sun tan, provided by Jesus,
and the light that passed through stain glassed pieces.
He clutched a rosary flat to his chest,
and confessed he wasn't ready for death.
I seen an iron eyed firefly, femme fatale,
to vain to explain how her hair fell out.
l****** for the next thing to erase her shame,
she doesn't want to live forever,
but she's scared to fade away.
This is how they came to me one at a time,
pilgrims to my building on the cemetery ground.
All they wanted was an answer and I could never let 'em down,
I couldn't promise them forever but I could buy a lot of time.
You Jeanvieve, you were the straw,
whispering your wishes in cotton Quebeois.
I wonder if the maker ever felt he botched the flock,
but never had the mettle to make the world stop?
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
I wonder if the maker ever felt he botched the flock,
but never had the mettle to make the world stop?
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
I wonder if the maker ever felt he botched the flock,
but never had the mettle to make the world stop?
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.
A sliver of chalk, across the blue.
Lord knows, I don't know what the hell's the use of the midday moon.
You came to my arms, too god d*** soon.
Lord knows, I don't know what to do with you, and the midday moon.