The Microphones
The Microphones
The Microphones
The Microphones
The Microphones
Mount Eerie
The Microphones
Mount Eerie
The Microphones
The Microphones
The Microphones
Should there be songs?
Should my hair be long?
Should my stare be strong?
Do nightmares belong, in a prerie dawn?
Should thy prayers be bronzed?
Do I dare to phone, over fair faced barns?
Our fears surround
Do I stare when I'm gone
Should there be bonds?
I have been told
That my skin is exceptionally smooth
But what good is that?
When to get to my heart
You have to crawl through long tunnels of sharp rock