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Suck The Blood From My Wound

Ezra Furman

I woke up bleeding in the crock of a tree
TV blaring on the wall above the coffee machine
Car wash waiting room outside Pasadena
I'm sitting waiting for my deus ex machina
And I'm forever changed by this chemical burn
Skin on my fingers peeling, making way for my new form

I grip the steering wheel and picture my angel

Climbing out the hospital window

Leaving tubes in a tangle

Blood on my angel's lips blends in with his make up

He's off the premises before his brain's had time to wake up

Peeling off bandages to unfold his wings

The doctors said they'd have to stay on for another three weeks

Fuck it baby, let 'em bruise, let 'em break

But bleed, let 'em bleed



I'm doing ninety, got to get there and hold him

If we can make it across the state line then baby, we're golden

Let the law pronounce its' petty assertions

They've been outsmarted by a couple of urchins

And they hurt you bad, man

They hurt me too

But I'm not about to sit here and watch as they

Suck the blood from my wound

Suck the blood from my wound

Suck the blood from my wound

Suck the blood from my wound

Ohh man



Wrap half the money in your hospital garment

We'll stash the rest inside the red Camero's secret compartment

Even the deepest wounds will heal over time

I'll run my fingers over your scars and yours over mine

They'll never find us if we turn off our phones

We're off the grid, we're off our meds

We're finally out on our own

Now I see colour coming back in your cheeks

Angel, don't fight it

To them you know we'll always be freaks

To them you know we'll always be freaks

We'll always



Park for the night north west of Baton Rouge

Across the parking lot you're stretching the one wing you can move

I let you walk as long as fear will allow

I never loved you more than I love you now

And then we're back on the road before the sun's even up

We're making time, we're making progress

But progress towards what?

Your fallen feathers fill up two shopping bags

The future's breathing down the neck of the past

And the sun throws a shit-eating shine on the moon

And I'm not about to wait for them to come

Suck the blood from my wound

Suck the blood from my wound

Suck the blood from my wound

Suck the blood from my wound

A plague on both your houses

A plague on both your houses

Artista: Ezra Furman



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