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ishroyale - a bulletin from the past pt. 2 lyrics

trickling down a dusty windowsill, we’re coming down now from all our fickle little thrills, in the middle of a pickled town in the eve of march, when your mouth was dry and the leaves were babies, and i was a baby to, cornstarch in a sippy cup, like brake lights on a motor truck, let the constable so trite and brash, bite the apple at the doctor’s prescription

elbows like snow capped mountains, sixteen underneath a sack of cotton on the fourth of july, stuffing herself with blueberry pie, as shots ring off outside, in a bona fide war on their eardrums and firе warnings, we’re all in mourning, but it’ll be thе morning soon

swollen chin and compliments, stolen gin is incompetent, so i’ll attempt to repent, the sins of my father’s father, who drank nothing but holy water, for he was the great fire starter who shook hands with jimmy carter

i am a bottle rocket, i shove my hands in both of my, pockets frantically fishing, panicked but wishing, that i could feel myself again, watching the elder leaves fall from the wind, there’s a trembling in my voice as i mumble sonnets of my choice, put your tonic in your gin and rub the bug bite on your chin, cause darling we’re both sick, arlington can house heroes like you, so what’s to do, because though we’ve never heard it we all still know and love the blues

- ishroyale lyrics

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