Make your bed and bury your friends,
You'll know what they mean when your dead.
And wash your hands to make amends,
But we all heard what you said.
High,
Low,
Lay next to me if I get cold.
And I,
Know,
These lies that you told,
I choose to ignore,
So please close the door.
Breaking bread with the honored dead,
They're laying their hands on your chest.
And doctor said the deer ticks have fed,
As the locusts chime in your head.
High,
Low,
Remember me when it gets cold.
And I,
Know,
These lies that you told,
I choose to ignore,
So please close the door.
If you have a fondness for expertly wrought roots-rock with sharp lyrics and aching vocals, look no further—“Strangers” is for you. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2022