Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Matt Pryor
Passenger plane, cross-continental
Just can't fly to save my life
And all I can say
I'm half in the bottle
Your look still cuts me like a knife
But don't call it in
The day may be done
Swear that the lamp's been broken
But still there's a light
Adrift in this state
I'm damned to wander
Tracing circles in the dust
And hours of late
I have to wonder
Does water cleanse the desert rust?
Don't call in it
The day may be done
Swear that the lamp's been broken
But still there's a light
These aren't important things
They're just my possessions
They don't mean anything
You can have them
But don't call it in
The day may be done
Swear that the lamp's been broken
But still there's a light
Still there's a light
Still there's a light