Fugative saint
Deep in the bowles of the caves of the cows
is a treasure
Fugative saint
burried below are the black planes that stretch on forever
Well, it's real
I have seen them with my own eyes crossed
down in the underworld, down in the underworld, down in the underworld
I desperately needed
to take a vacation.
What better place then,
the city of Satan.
Do you know the way to Pasedina?
I've heard it's green.
They tell me there must be a way, I've gotta go.
Cause the city of Angels gets cold at night,
can't sleep at all cause the glows so bright.
And the horns ring in through every hole in the wall.
I packed up a suitcase
And loaded the Cora.
And over my halo,
I threw a fadora.
Maps and tennis rackets in the backseat of the car
Peter, tell the boss I just went for a drive.
I won't be back for choir practice, Gabe can sing my part.
Hi, hello, America.
Hi, hello, America.
Tales have been told,
twisting the tips, of the lips of the profits that woke them.
Words have been wrote,
sticking the teeth of the tongue anytime they have spoken.
Can't let go
There's a flame that encircles the earth.
Down in the underworld.
Down in the underworld.
Down in the underworld.
I couldn't believe it,
standing before me,
the holy of holies,
in all of his glory.
Dressed in rags and tatters from the Clover city jail
Headlights for a halo what a fitting areole
Brother, where you been I wandered all the night
Just then the fires and the helicopters
Lord, I see the light.
Hi, hello, America.
Hi, hello, America.
Fugative saint
Time is evolving and mankind is calling for freedom.
Fugative saint
Fortune and fate have been kidnapped by logic and reason.
Bars of steel,
some lines have never been crossed.
Well...
credits
from Fugatives,
released December 23, 2011
Travis Puntarelli - vocals, guitars, keys, whistles
Ben Fowler - drums
Steve Laine - bass
Aaron Chandler - electric guitars
Eric Auerbach - violins
Alex Arnold - accordians, trumpets
Kati Gleiser - organ, harmonies
Lilly and Evelyn Walker - harmonies
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