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lyrics

we had tried to work it out.
applied pressure to the front of your head.
you control an empty shell,
but i control where i lay in my bed.

If I choose to close my eyes,
i may never see this world again.
would it come as a surprise
if i woke someplace that i've never been.

It's getting harder to trust in the things that i know.
I am a lier, and i have to be ready to show
what i am made for. but what am i made for?
and what has been made for me?
i am the front door. i am the water.
a wave in the vast open sea.
so call me your brother, call me your father.
i'm a holy and spiritual man.
a man of delusion. a man of religion,
who will break on a shore of soft sand.

and each grain of sand is its own little cell.
and each nucleus will burn with its electrical smell.
which way is up? it is so hard to tell.
i can't tell.

but i've tried to work this out.
held my hands as tight as fists in the air.
and i could fill your empty shell,
but it would not get me anywhere...

credits

from The Book of Winter Fireworks, released July 12, 2012
Lucas William Hale Van Scoy: Vocals/Acoustic Guitar
Stephen Phelps: Bass Guitar
Jared Phelps: Electric Guitar
Tim Oakley: Drumset
Maxim Van Scoy: Percussion
Laura Hajek: Noise/Synth

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William Hale Glens Falls, New York

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