Thorns
from We Don't Need A Map by Alexander Hudjohn
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Digital Track
Immediate download of Thorns in your choice of MP3 320, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now $1 USD
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lyrics
It's dark as a mine for months around here, they say
It's bitter as bourbon on the virgin lips, of a babe.
And there's nothing to do on a Monday but drink.
Tuesday through Sunday it's more of the same thing.
Us NE boys are holding it down.
While the girls out in the SW, I hear they get around.
Midnight down on Broadway, The homeless men they mourn.
While the high school kids, are cruising the strip on Hawthorne.
Her roses never bloom, when there's no sunlight in June.
All that she's left with is a garden of thorns.
So you wear your apathy like a badge.
On the collar of your used leather jacket you bought, because it matches your messenger bag.
Beards aren't reserved for rednecks and truckers.
We're all just hipsters and sappy drunk suckers around here.
It's bitter as bourbon on the virgin lips, of a babe.
And there's nothing to do on a Monday but drink.
Tuesday through Sunday it's more of the same thing.
Us NE boys are holding it down.
While the girls out in the SW, I hear they get around.
Midnight down on Broadway, The homeless men they mourn.
While the high school kids, are cruising the strip on Hawthorne.
Her roses never bloom, when there's no sunlight in June.
All that she's left with is a garden of thorns.
So you wear your apathy like a badge.
On the collar of your used leather jacket you bought, because it matches your messenger bag.
Beards aren't reserved for rednecks and truckers.
We're all just hipsters and sappy drunk suckers around here.
credits
from
We Don't Need A Map, track
released 18 September 2010
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