Founds total 3 songs
Psalm For The Elks Lodge Last Call
Let the waitress put the chairs up. Let the glasses that you broke. Form a picture of our leader. With a halo made of smoke. . Let the golden oldies station.
Pamphleteer
I'm standing on this corner, can't get their attention. Facing rush hour faces turned around. I clutch my stack of paper, press one to a chest. Then watch it swoop and stutter to the ground.
(past-due)
February always finds you folding. Local papers open to the faces. Who past away to wonder what they're holding. In those hands were never shown the places.
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