Your t-shirt wore like armour in the summer.
The sun falls on a sprinkler soaked drive way.
A moment hangs and steals you from forever.
To reign your memories while you wait.
You thought your love for her would last forever.
Running 'cross the field, hearts on fire.
Nostalgia grips the breath desire's willing,
spilling all the love that left you living.
Your time will come, your time has come.
Your glory days, your glory days are done.
Belief belies retreat a form of living.
You sell your brother out to stay the killing.
When the prisoners pile up, you're the villain.
To the memory of the girl form your old street.
The fray it rages on, the blood is spilling.
Slash and burn the crash, young hearts on fire.
- but innocence reminds you where your love is
as the blood begins to stain belief in loving.
Your time will come, your time has come,
your glory days, your glory days are young.
This San Francisco singer-songwriter mixes jazz, trip-hop, and experimental pop for a heady brew that's social change-minded. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2019
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