washed out
damp and alone
shed the stain
that I’ve grown to know
it’s hard to swallow
with your hands around my throat
shed the stain
that I’ve grown to know
when every inch of you set in
I felt the warmth that had been absent
I can feel you in my bones
washed, ripe, to call your own
washed out
bored and alone
become the stain
I’ve grown to know
it’s hard to swallow
with your hands around my throat
shed the stain
that I’ve grown to know
when every inch of you set in
I felt the warmth that had been absent
I can feel you in my bones
washed, ripe, to call your own
don’t wanna push you away, no I
don’t wanna push you away
Just saw them in concert last night. i liked their sound a lot, but the singer had his mike turned down real low and all the instruments turned up way too loud. So no one liked em cause they couldn't hear or understand him