The Primitives Lyrics - Houston: Publishing Demos 2002 - Mark Lanegan

Forget your family son 

Face on the clock, your foreign body 

The ship is just a frame 

Pinpoint eyes, seething decks and pain 

You wonder how it should be 

You wonder how it should go 

Then deny no loathsome thing 

Hands beyond hands beyond oblivion 

Swing 

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Forget your yesterday son 

Face on the clock, your foreign body 

The ship is just a frame 

Pinpoint eyes, seething decks and pain 

Photos