The Storm

The Blueman’s curse
It blackens the eye
Cradle the whole nine yards, gotta let them sparrows fly
Old man Poe
Is that what you ride?
Got a great big white in your tail, seems more than happy to oblige

You gotta call 91-77-08
Name, home address and mental state
You gotta call 91-77-08

The sky turns red
It narrows the mind
Black bolts of light in the sky, but it’s fine, let’s call it a night

You gotta call 91-77-08
Name, home address and mental state
You gotta call 91-77-08

The hands been dealt with and if we’re going down
Seagulls laughin ’cuz they’re safе and sound
The tides are turnin’ and wе’re lost to be found
We’re all sinkin’ and we won’t come around