Texty písní Pond The Practice of Joy Before Death Glass Sparkles in Their Hair

Glass Sparkles in Their Hair

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anarchists in the sun
glass sparkles in their hair
rose hollywood chapel
raise scuffed up hands into the air
in the sun

weeds fill the sidewalk cracks
lying perfectly still
warming its black striped back
spark of life held against its will

in the sun

I saw a snake today
a tiny city snake
and when he crawled away
I hoped it'd be all right
no one knows anything
worth knowing till the end
fifteen feet from the curb
by now it's been run over
I know I know now
why bricks make factories

anarchist clean my house
smoke flowing from their beards
set fire to my couch
it feels so weird to see them here
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