lyrics
pollute the path with petals pink to delight the eyes, disguise the stink.
impoverished cargo, rotting meat. pungent passage so sickly sweet.
so this is how my story ends, borne to the river by my friends.
you're awful sad an awful lot, your soul could heat your body up to 98.6 degrees of burning hell inside your mind, because life can treat you so unkind when aging is viewed as disease.
i believe we all leave screaming in disbelief, "can't believe this is happening to me!" It turns out all along, whether righteous or wrong, death is death, ain't no hidden meaning.
punctuate death with woodland greens. adorned with jewels beyond our means. We bury a sword for my friends, because all good things must some day end. don't grieve the things that have to leave, like our fallen comradery.
You bare me to the water's edge, where river carries off our dead, and wash your hands of me.
Swaddled in my finest cloth the water washes all sin off as my body's swallowed in the stream.
"I believe! I believe!" you will all scream in grief, hoping your belief will set my soul free. but it's all just a dream, death is just what it seems, an ending to almost everything.
the guy lived quite a violent life, but his funeral was beautiful.
he died of quite a violent life, but his funeral was beautiful.
credits
from
Atlas/My Friends Split,
released August 19, 2011
Colbert Groce - percussion, bell, backing vocals
Matthew Lawrence Latchford - bass guitar
Brian McDaniel - melodica, trumpet, backing vocals
Dustin Scobell - mandolin, vocals
Justin Wallace - drums
John Witt - guitar
license
all rights reserved