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• Artiste: Gregory Alan Isakov
• Titre: Crooked Muse
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Pictures watch from the sidewalk past poems go flying in the tracks all we ever got left is a pile of things I visit you with nothing burning hidden heart, stomach churning circled in the words like the vultures your mouth becomes a dictionary words without a holy theory you're the only one on the page look it up to find my heart tear that old shit apart till you find the words to sum me up I don't need no alibis you sit me down here and you cry the music man sings his mystery songs he tries to put his finger on there's things unfelt that he's always longed to feel the things we all are destined to loose while I seek out that crooked muse you stole my heart and filled it up with blues I've been waiting for you and me to watch this world from a windows seat Look down there, all them tiny creatures running crazy and I've been here on this precipice and I picked apart anything I bring so we can toss our suitcase into the wind at last we've all the merry things we needed it's time like this we remember to believe let it roll, let it ride, let it ride on me Lay me down here in your field they know just, what they steal