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Bum Bum Bum - Cass McCombs



     
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Bum Bum Bum Lyrics


The white dog of the farm still breeds
She's off her leash
To tear flesh and teach
Bum bum bumYou think you've heard it all before
Well, here's once more
We're all at war
Bum bum bumBlood in the streets, our eternal river
I know the killer
He counts my silver
Bum bum bumThey ambushed them behind the reeds
These are our seeds
White dog still breeds
Bum bum bum
They say, "Buy when there's blood in the streets
Even if the blood is your own"
So they employed men far away
To turn against their home
Centuries in the distant mist

But it's not a dreamNo, it ain't no dream, it's all too real
How long until
This river of blood congeals?
Bum bum bumAnd eulogies poured from the stage
But nothing changed
The dog was caged
Bum bum bumAnd white bread artists won't even look at you
When they know it's true
What you gonna do?
Bum bum bum
Thought I heard some woman screaming
And I sat up in my bed
And I went over to the window
And I saw him in the cold street, lying dead
Oh, please tell me, you academics
How do you wake up from a non-dream?No, it ain't no dream, it's all too real
How long until
This river of blood congeals?
Bum bum bumSent a letter to my congressman
The Ku Klux Klan
From my pierced hands
Bum bum bumThey sent me back an apple phone
A fine-hair comb
And a bell tolled
Bum bum bumThe phone rang once and the line went dead
All blood runs red
White pups still bred
Bum bum bum
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Cass McCombs (born in Concord, California in 1977) is an American singer-songwriter and performer. An enigmatic folk nomad, McCombs is a quintessentially American artist; "he's quietly become one of (the country's) finest chroniclers of fringe characters, a writer of heart-rending love songs and psychedelic odes to the natural world, a teller of tall-tales with a sense of humor dry as desert wood, and that rare folksinger who actually sings about the folk.

Read more about Cass McCombs on Last.fm.


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Cass McCombs