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jazzberry ram – goldsmith lyrics

uncle was a goldsmith
used to scam shavings off bourgeoisie scum
lucky enough to be his nephew (keep it in the family tree)
put six gold coins in a helmet
i was a crowned prince on a motor bike
heading for the border
told them “a little vacation in romania”
ten days later i was in heathrow
making collect calls to toronto

it kinda feels like sadness (with flashes of empty mirth)
photo id, hands on the car, make it snappy please
we can do this the hard way, or we can make it easy
this doesn’t feel too rock+n+roll
social function, south galiano hall
some greatful dead act, ay it’s gonna be a ball
getting mеssed up in the woods at night
(all thesе colours swirling bright)
buried some roots, bought a toque
i put a woodstove in the chicken coop
can definitely call this place home now
sometimes the r.c.s take helicopter rides
over my woods to see what’s inside
red christmas bulbs make them look like tomato plants

it kinda feels like sadness (with flashes of empty mirth)
photo id, hands on the car, make it snappy please
we can do this the hard way, or we can make it easy
this doesn’t feel too rock+n+roll
sadness (with flashes of empty mirth)
photo id, hands on the car, make it snappy please
we can do this the hard way, or we can make it easy
this doesn’t feel too rock+n+roll

and i’m sorry for this change of view
but if i became just another number, i’d end up screwin’ you too
(screwin’ you too)
and i’m sorry for this change of view
but if i became just another number, i’d end up screwin’ you too
(screwin’ you too, screwin’ you too)
leaving today going miles away, leaving today going miles away
i got a plan (leaving), take a shovel, mix the clay with the sand
together we grow something, man (today)
i got a plan (going), take a shovel, mix the clay with the sand
together we grow something, man (miles away)
i got a plan (leaving), take a shovel, mix the clay with the sand
together we grow something, man (today)
i got a plan (going), take a shovel, mix the clay with the sand
together we grow something, man (miles away)

hey little b+o+y, get your ass inside
there ain’t no place to hide, ain’t gonna swallow my pride
can definitely call this place home now
this kinda feels like sadness (with flashes of empty mirth)

- jazzberry ram lyrics

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