Phantom Limb - Eightfourseven



     
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Phantom Limb Lyrics


Foals in winter coats
White girls of the north
File past one five and one
They are the fabled lambs
of Sunday ham
the EHS norm
And they could float above the grass
in circles if they tried
A latent power I know they hide
To keep some hope alive
That a girl like I'm
Could ever try
Could ever try
So we just skirt the hallway sides
A phantom and a fly
Follow the lines and wonder why
There's no connection
A week of rolling eyes

and cheap shots from the trite
And we're off to Nemarca's porch again
Another afternoon
With the goat-head tunes
And pilfered booze
We wander through her mama's house
The milk from a window lights
Family portrait circa '95
This is that foreign land
With the sprayed-on tans
And it all feels fine
Be it silk or slime
So when they tap our Monday heads
Two zombies walk in our stead
This town seems hardly worth the time
And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme
Too far along in our climb
Stepping over what now towers to the sky,
With no connection
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
So when they tap our Sunday heads
Two zombies walk in our stead
This town seems hardly worth our time
And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme,
Too far along in our crime,
Stepping over what now towers to the sky,
With no connection
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
Oooh waooooooo waooooooo
(repeat to fade)

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

EIGHTFOURSEVEN distort all sonic boundaries on their latest full-length album, LOSSLESS. Due out this June via Minus Head Records, LOSSLESS fuses electronica with warm organic rock for a sound that's as ponderous as it is pacifying. "Chibana" pulsates with blips of incisive cyber riffing conjured by Anthony Sarti (Bass/Programming/Synth) and frontman Lance Jackman's hypnotic harmonies. Meanwhile, cuts like "Phantom Limb" and the title track segue through uncharted sonic territory rhythmically propelled via Ben Conger's drums and Sean Bivins ethereal guitar tones.

Read more about Eightfourseven on Last.fm.


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