Old Mr. Driftwood
Gonna row me home
Old Mr. Driftwood
Lives all alone
Lives in a sea home
All painted white
Lives in a sea home
Where he paints at night
And all the lions
Lay on the beach
All of the lions
Rest under the trees
And if he could
He would let them all Love him
Because of the Lions
But he can't
She starves herself
Does anybody really know?
She's skin and bones
She makes the throw
My Love Will Grow
Who is that girl,
The pretty one with Ms. Monroe
She lets him know
She's all alone
My Love Will Grow
My only friend
The one who stops to smile at me
He made a film
He let it show
My Love Will Grow
Life becomes so much easier when you can't sleep
Life becomes so much harder when you can't eat
Life becomes so much stronger when you can't live
Life becomes so much weaker when you can't give
We'll eat you up, we Love you so!
It's easy, oh it's easy
Before I get to heaven I'll burn down a church
I hope no ones inside
I hope nobody dies
Mr. Driftwood gave me a broom and a ribbon
I swept all your ashes in a little tin
I hoped somebody would pray for them
I never found the people and I never found you
I just found a light and some pictures of you
Mother Mary crying in an empty tomb
Forget about your mothers
Forget about your friends
Forget about your lovers
Forget about your friends
We'll see them in the end
My friends are beautiful
I wish that I was one of them
My friends are beautiful
I hope that someday we can be friends
These days are beautiful
I hope these days, they never end
This day is beautiful
I hope the skyline never ends
Look at people that I don't know
They're all beautiful and they're my friends
Maybe someday I can meet with them again
My life is beautiful
My God is in the Sea
The Driftwood is washing up against the shore
And it's my turn to go
I'm hiding in my cave
The Ocean is slowly filling up my soul
So I finally let go
My God is in the Sea
The Driftwood has finally filled up my soul
And I'm ready to go
I would like to apologize in advance for this album. This album is the fault of Ernest Hemingway, Franz Liszt and Ovaltine. I have absolutely nothing to do with the twisted sounds and screeches coming from your speakers and headphone. It is all the doing of two wonderful dead men, and a mysterious chocolate drink. Nothing more and nothing less. The Lyrics come from Mr. Hemingway. The Music comes from Mr. Liszt. The Madness comes from Mr. Ovaltine, who has filled my stomach and brain many an hour as I sat at the piano.
I would like to thank Jesus Christ, The Beatles, Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, Francis Schaeffer, Regina Spektor, Frederic Chopin, Johnny Cash, Coldplay, Ezekiel the Prophet, and Jack White for inspiring me.
credits
released February 6, 2011
All Vocals, Pianos, Guitars, Melodicas, Organs, Bassses, Drums, Ukuleles, Synthesizers, Electric Cellos, and Laptops played by Curran McQuade.
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