Untitled 4 - Brian Ibbott



     
Page format: Left Center Right
Direct link:
BB code:
Embed:

Untitled 4 Lyrics


I, I am feeling like a veteran
Uncompensated for the blood I've left to pool on foreign grounds
And I sometimes reach to rub at aching legs
But they've been dust for over a decade
And you're the limb I've lost, but somehow I still feel
Until I wake, we just hope that you made it
We hope that you're celebrating with people you've missed
And burning like a beacon, guiding our ship around this hellish shoal
I'm happy to admit that maybe I am a little depressed 'cause I'm missing you to death
And now there's only records of my memory
It's a little thing you gave posthumously
The details all dragged out
To think of all the paintings we could be without
If Van Gogh had gone and died face down from loss of blood the night he went and hacked his ear off
Until I wake, we just hope that you made it
We hope that you're celebrating with people you've missed
And burning like a beacon, guiding our ship around this hellish shoal

I'm happy to admit that maybe I am a little depressed 'cause I'm missing you to death
(x2)
Until I wake, we just hope that you made it
We hope you're as decorated as the day that you left
And burning like a beacon, guiding our ship around this hellish shoal
I'm happy to admit that maybe I am a little depressed 'cause I'm missin' you to death

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

Brian Ibbott is a podcaster who lives in Arvada, Colorado (about 10 miles west of Denver). He produces and hosts several podcasts of which Coverville is most well known. Coverville is a podcast, produced three times a week, that focuses on cover songs - a new rendition of a previously recorded song. The show runs since September 2004. Coverville features a combination of music and information about the music, delivered in a very relaxed, informal style.

Read more about Brian Ibbott on Last.fm.


User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License and may also be available under the GNU FDL.

View All

Brian Ibbott