Like Blood Does Lyrics - Why There Are Mountains - Cymbals Eat Guitars

Nightly, empty, luminous ballrooms roll back in your skull 

I resigned myself to all the disappearance 

I was sure the cops would come calling 

Some sick shivering morning 

I live in Newark now where cars speed away 

And weekend freebasers bury their stems 

In shaded groves and muted clearings 

In Philadelphia, we didn't know 

Clammy hands and beaming thresholds 

And I'm visited by naked reality 

In the higher gloss of the cars that cut in front of me 

And depression is nothing compared to what's in store for them 

Having hitched across America 

Like an itinerant laborer 

Or a serial killer on pulsing arterials 

I numbly recline 

In a filthy slicked lawn chair 

As our garage yawns behind me with tunnels 

The pinkest sky I'd ever seen 

Still pocked with dirigibles 

And flying machines that opened up 

I thought it'd begun hailing but amethyst and glass 

Were raining down from an unmarked aircraft 

Covering the cooling tar totally 

In manufactured street sheen 

I've been finding clipped-off Parliaments everywhere lately 

I take it as a sign that you're around 

See J passed away 

For the first time in June 

And the last time last night in the Warren 

As a warm, round, mournful sound 

Flooded my room 

Like blood does from the faucets of pitch-black bathrooms during adolescent summoning rituals