LYRIC

It's not impossible to see
The infinite
Silhouette that tore
Right through him

The ghost in every town
They just don't see
The silver lining found
In that corporate cloud

Pockets full of spent bullets,
Old train tickets,
And pictures of the sun
That couldn't warm up those winter eyes

It's not impossible to breathe
With flooded lungs
Or winterize the scenes
That leave you numb

A tire fire in the night
A painting that never dries
A wooden shield under
Machine gun fire

Pockets full of spent bullets,
Old train tickets,
And pictures of the setting sun
Across a desert sprawl
While hangin' out
At the governor's ball

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