something's dead and spilled on my childhood street
just out past the garden wall
i could smell it cooking on the July breeze
that lifted all those Sunday dresses
i thought that i had seen everything
under this white-knuckled fist of moon
but i spoke too soon ...

i need you here, man i ain't even kiddin'
girl i need you here
you left the bed covered in blood and sunshine
mostly sunshine
i thought that i had seen everything
under this white-knuckled fist of moon
but i spoke too soon ...