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Lonesome Wyatt And The Holy Spooks
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There Is Nothing
Those tear ducts broke
A flood came out
There was no soul in whom I could confide
The thoughts I held
In your nightmares dwelled
And they crushed me like the incoming tide
That unnameable pain
That incurable longing for something
But there is nothing
Mother did crawl
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To the garden wall
And a thorn tore a hole in her side
Slowly she bled
Then the green grass stained red
And I crawled down her throat for to hide
That unnameable pain
That incurable longing for something
But there is nothing
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