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Melodic, sad and dreamy, texturally acoustic. |
CD: Stereolight
Label: Self released
Credits: Writte, performed, produced by Matt Yaki |
Story Behind the Song
Memories of a friend, a car, and a ridiculous love for the poetic.
Lyrics
Any fall morning i can write my confession
When I see the sun rising under magnolia
Among the fallen leaves I keep my company
I sit down and I pry myself open for one last line
But what it always comes to, the thing that sticks in my throat
Everytime I try to speak of why I always wished that I could drive your
Spraypaint blue, blue Barracuda
your four speed obsession parked under magnolia.
There was something effortless, a Zen to your surrender
What's the sound of one hand running scared from the other?
Your stanzas, your haikus, your sonnets full of fate
For any snakeskin booted floozy who could get two words to rhyme
And you drag your pencil down on some salvaged paper bag to tell the worl the irrelevance of all that you are but your
Spraypaint blue...
If I could have held on to a handful of your hair
It could brush away the eraser dust from all the lines I could not bear
To let ring out, or to say out loud when I realized that I loved the thrill
Of chasing my shadow into your eyes
And now in your aftermath my regrets turn into shouts
You had to drive into a telephone pole to show me what you're all about in your
spraypaint blue...
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