Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
BAMBARA
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
BAMBARA
Composer
Lyrics
We're at some late night art gallery
A 50's living room is nailed to the ceiling
You look pretty and sweet with red wine on your teeth
But I can't shake this feeling like I'm capsized and kicking
We're the last ones here and people start to clean
Nagging tired and slow like blood drunk little sand fleas
And I shake you awake and say, "Where to next?"
'Cause with the morning you leave
You say, "I think Red Tide might still be open"
And I say, "When you're gone, how you planning on coping?"
I will pretend that you're dead
And I'll take what you left in my head
To the backyard and fill it with flowers instead
A bell's ringing somewhere near the beach
It's bright and shrill and it's louder than it should be
I wonder if you'll hear it tomorrow night
When everyone is sleeping
I rest my head on your shoulder
"What you gonna do when I get back home
And she wants you to hold her?"
I will pretend that you're dead
And I'll take what you left in my head
To the backyard and fill it with flowers instead
Well, I will pretend that you're dead
And I'll take what you left in my head
To the backyard and fill it with flowers instead
Well, I will pretend that you're dead
Yeah, I'll take what you left in my head
To the backyard and fill it with flowers instead
Writer(s): Reid Bateh, Edward Bateh, William Brookshire
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