James Vincent McMorrow

Cause nothing moves in the warm air
And words that once would cut like a knife,
They just hang in the cloud and you're
Pushed by the lord,
But you're pulled by the crowds and
You're overboard, you're overboard
Oh my God, she's overboard

That we don't eat until your father's at the table
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust

Follow you down to the red oak tree
as the air moves thick through the hollow reeds
i will wait for you there until someone comes
to carry me, carry me down

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