August End Songtext
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August End
Words and Music by Beau Phillips
It's still hot as hell outside
Reminds me of a blood bath
I'm in wrath
The end of summer days and eve
And all that I believe to be half true
I'm fleeing once again
I'm losing my secret friend and sanity
The end of August
Such a death drenched time
And I must move to escape all the sadness and the crime
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
I think the time has come again
For me to vanish into thin air
Where the blistering wind n pavement black takes me
Will make me free
So I can cut through all the imagery brainwashed
invaded my mind
Keep little in your pockets time is a suspicious confine
The end of August
Such a death drenched time
And I must move to escape all the sadness and the crime
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
Copyright 2007 Beau Phillips
All rights reserved
Words and Music by Beau Phillips
It's still hot as hell outside
Reminds me of a blood bath
I'm in wrath
The end of summer days and eve
And all that I believe to be half true
I'm fleeing once again
I'm losing my secret friend and sanity
The end of August
Such a death drenched time
And I must move to escape all the sadness and the crime
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
I think the time has come again
For me to vanish into thin air
Where the blistering wind n pavement black takes me
Will make me free
So I can cut through all the imagery brainwashed
invaded my mind
Keep little in your pockets time is a suspicious confine
The end of August
Such a death drenched time
And I must move to escape all the sadness and the crime
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
Only I on an empty trail
Of roads and rails that whisper wistful songs
Of suffocation and mutilation
Copyright 2007 Beau Phillips
All rights reserved
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