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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Geoff Rickly
Lead Vocals
Tom Keeley
Guitar
Steve Pedulla
Guitar
Tim Payne
Bass Guitar
Tucker Rule
Drums
Tom Schlatter
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Geoff Rickly
Songwriter
Tom Keeley
Songwriter
Steve Pedulla
Songwriter
Tim Payne
Songwriter
Tucker Rule
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sal Villanueva
Producer
Tim Gilles
Mixing Engineer
Erin Farley
Recording Engineer
Codie "Dr. Huey" Brown
Assistant Recording Engineer
Dr. Timo G. Less
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Let's call this the quiet city
Where screams are felt as the waves of the stoplights
Drive through the streets
As gunshots punctuate the night
The sides we take divide us from our faith
And the mourning dove gets caught (in the telephone wire)
Asleep, you set the fire in your own house
And the night was a knife that cut
And I'm paralyzed
Cross out the eyes, blur all the lines
Tearing this canvas from the wall
Cross out the eyes, put lines through these cries
Pulled all the leaves from the trees that fall
(Yeah, trees that fall)
(Trees that fall)
(Trees that fall, fall-)
A silent dance that we did into this hospital bed
Hear voices from another room
It happens all the time
But July in the sand then
The leaves fall and counting down our days to live
Drain the blood from this valentine!
We can rise on the wings of the dove
See blue skies getting caught in the trail of all this smoke
We can rise, like candles in the dark, yours always
And an envelope marked with your new address
Asleep, you set the fire in your own house
And the night was a knife that cut
And I'm paralyzed
Cross out the eyes, blur all the lines
Tearing this canvas from the wall
Cross out the eyes, put lines through these cries
Pulled all the leaves from the trees that fall
(Cross out the eyes, blur all the lines, lines)
(Cross out the eyes, blur all the lines, cries)
(Your eyes, your eyes)
(Your eyes cry)
It was the first time face to face
Crossing the line talking to the other side of death
Hearing the words that choke memories into flat lines
Calling your name, hoping for something to wash these dreams of you away
(Til' we die, memories and flat lines)
Cross out the eyes 'til we set off these lines
Cross out the eyes 'til we set off these lines
(Cross out the eyes)
Our fence was blown down in a winter storm in this field
(Cross out the eyes)
Stretches out of this world into the sound
(A trace of-)
What can we do to put a stop to the coming white days?
(A love song)
I'm hoping for something to wash these dreams of you away
(Stretches out of this world)
(Let's drive back the dead)
(Stretches out of this world)
(Stretches out of this world)
Writer(s): Timothy Payne, Thomas Rule, Geoffrey Rickly, Robert Keeley Iii, Steven Pedulla
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