Just like characters that populate some quiet childhood dream.
It’s so easy to get caught up in just one poetic line,
While the Parsons have their cross to bare,
I know I’ve got mine.
And it’s a quiet night in Silver Lake, all the people crowd this scene.
Well they look so much like cardboard cut-outs placed upon a screen,
And I feel this sinking feeling as Missy grabs my hand,
And we lose ourselves in the harmonies, the white-robed beauty of this band.
(Aaaahh Ooooohhh…)
And the singers all cry as she whispers in my ear,
and I stare down at the ground, holding tightly to my beer,
Do you feel the strain between us, yeah I know I feel it too,
And I wish I believed in anything as much as the Parson Redheads do.
I wish I believed in anything as much as the Parson Redheads do.
