Bleed Color

Flags blown by atomic bombs A million angels trembling in intoxication, a madman burns and vomits visions of the lonesome and hungry trying for their last romance [instrumental break] Beneath east breathing street Graffiti Speakers Bleed Color Wheeled People Riding in on Unicycles With dilute pieces missing From her torn down mountains Illuminating his eyes in daytime [instrumental break] checkered sweater Jack Fang stands as a Jesus clone Shimmering like the hills of Egyptian religious sands As In a scene painted by a queen With Colors smeared on a canvas While his blurry distortion star Sarah Clark is Shipwrecked in the Nile River nearby his apparition of shrouded fog Fluoresces Flowers in his digested clay mist, her blank out slurry of Herding sheep dented and found by his weather [instrumental break] In a street walk scene Jack and Sarah echo, “nothing really matters in the universe and keep trying to do everything !” to the blooming tulips growing by Saint Peter's church [instrumental break] [instrumental break] In a street walk scene Jack and Sarah echo, “nothing really matters in the universe and keep trying to do everything !” to the blooming tulips growing by Saint Peter's church [instrumental break] She still kisses Jack during the slow parts Of the street fair and calls him an intense village The eventual blazing death of her, Because her mental gymnastics need vulnerable confidence But let’s not talk about that while it’s working Jack If we don’t have to, she says [instrumental break] Alas, she says “we’ve been here before” In our silent shelter And we’re Forever forgetting by Twisting twirling ourselves alone To the ballad of every autumn and the aroma of family photos [instrumental break] My dear Sarah Clark It would take years of archeology, kerosene, and sheer reality to Turn compliment to endearment and tenderness to connection During our youthful delusion at time of year [instrumental break] In a street walk scene Jack and Sarah echo, “nothing really matters in the universe and keep trying to do everything !” to the blooming tulips growing by Saint Peter's church [end] [instrumental break] Alas, she says “we’ve been here before” In our silent shelter And we’re Forever forgetting by Twisting twirling ourselves alone To the ballad of every autumn and the aroma of family photos [instrumental break] [chaotic guitar solo] My dear Sarah Clark It would take years of archeology, kerosene, and sheer reality to Turn compliment to endearment and tenderness to connection During our youthful delusion at time of year [instrumental break] In a street walk scene Jack and Sarah echo, “nothing really matters in the universe and keep trying to do everything !” to the blooming tulips growing by Saint Peter's church [end] [guitar solo] In a street walk scene Jack and Sarah echo, “nothing really matters in the universe and keep trying to do everything !” to the blooming tulips growing by Saint Peter's church [end]