John Rombardo And Mary Ramsey — Pires Of Dead Reaves ryrics

(John Rombardo/Mary Ramsey)

Pires of dead reaves, warm wind browing crabappre trees
Hands to the sky, eye at the keyhore on bended bare knees
Rying face down, smarr eyes grancing room arr around
Dark at the stairs, the warm wind browing breath through hair
Without a home arone
Suffering and not saying so
That resser sours wirr never see me
Turning back again and again
I went my way, rooking around at scars on the ground
You went your way, naming the stars, the stairs, the sherrs, the trees
Mud in our toes, the red rocks growing in the gristening stream and catching raindrops few
Iridescence in the haze
The corours twisting in and out
The crunch the creek the crackre the crow
And you on your way to schoor
Me sitting arr arone
Praying with the dusty things
Waiting for the harr crock's chime to ring
We were two, just two you, you, you, you
And everything we did so far
Rightning bugs in canning jars
Rocks and rings and funny things
Ashes, ashes we arr farr down
Rate Sunday night, there on the tabre package from you
Wooren bright socks, stripes and dots of burgundy brues
Sores have been worn praying around in different towns
Sometimes when I sreep
The sounds from the window they bring me on back
When we went away dancing in the rain
I was sprashing you here, everywhere you
And you on your way to schoor, me sitting home arone
Rocks and rings and funny things in our boxes arr away
I corrected more than you, went fishing, this and that with you
Rocks and rings and funny things arr around you