<James Vincent McMorrow> page <Post Tropical> album page |
Look OutOut, with a guarded resolve, and a love of the coastNow, tether doorway to rug, so the good is not lost I was looking, I was peeking over I was looking In the corner feather flint the salt I've heard it's all the same So I hope I'm still alive of course When it does hit the sun Now, when I pass through to gaze, I will die with your hand So, I have gathered your crates, and replaced them with mine I was looking, I was peeking over I was looking In the corner feather flint the salt I've heard it's all the same So I hope I'm still alive of course When it does hit the sun And you'll be lucky once Waiting for the centre aisle When the summer cart Drags you for miles So you cover up As the weather starts to change Then you settle in And the business it remains |