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• Artiste: Tigers on Trains
• Titre: A Year in the Garden Shed
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When your father's lungs started to fill up, And the sickness spread to his thinning blood, Well you pulled the sheets tight over your head, It was you and God and a safe warm bed. And you thought love was a bullshit lie, 'Til you saw the tears in your mother's eyes, And you spent a year in the garden shed, Just to get things straight in your fuming head. (Ouuu...) When those white-tipped waned(?) broke against the house, And the door came loose, and the dog got out, It was you and me, we were losing teeth, Saw our own ashes laid across our feet. And you drank yourself right down into Hell, It was you and God in a cheap motel, And you dug your grave on the bathroom floor, And finally found what you were looking for. (Ouuu...) And you say, "Death is not a curse, it's the only thing that's keeping us alive." x7