Testo Pigeon Drummer

The background buzz, the lo-fi hum,
The fallen saviors beat their ritual drums
Their eyes alive with destiny
Sweet delusions, which serve to set us free

The bar room bids for tarts with hearts
The dumbed-down kids in souped up cars
The clapped out lovers on their guard Smaller details written large

Her sun-kissed skin caught in your frame
You know you'll never pass this way again
You wash the dirt out of your hair
You find the words you need when no one's there

The moments lost
The distant stars