A tragic tale told sincerely and matter-of-factly backed by some mellow piano and crunchier delay.
Words & Music Ryan Webb
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A tragic tale told sincerely and matter-of-factly backed by some mellow piano and crunchier delay.
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SANDCASTLES
(Words & Music by Ryan Webb)
Like a masterpiece portrait
With some edges frayed
She was tragically delicate
In a captivating way
Her skin a perfect match
To my patch or Band-Aid
And through each other
We felt we were saved
She led me to her bedroom
On a rainy day in June
Like the gates to Heaven
Or a womb or a cocoon
Just like a caterpillar
Stomach full of butterflies
Inside hers, she had proof of life
She said, “We’re gonna have a baby”
She’d even picked a pretty name
Saying: “If we have a little girl
We should call her Courtney Jane”
“I ain’t gonna tell my family
They’ll only try to take this away
So come on, baby
Let’s just run away”
‘But every key, has a hole
Though it may be unseen
Like superstition has wishbones
And lucky charms like four-leaf clover
Black cats in the road
On the first star of the evening, I wish…
Put your ear up to a sea shell
Can you hear a crashing wave?
As you get older
Your imagination fades
I would call you a pessimist
If I saw you check both ways
When you cross a one-way street
Show some faith
Continued
SANDCASTLES
(Words & Music by Ryan Webb)
Like flipsides sides of a coin
I kinda live a double life
Like the foe of Heaven, Satan
Putting up the Christmas lights
So if I’m gonna win this battle
I’ll probably have to fight it twice
But I can live with that
Yeah that’s alright, alright
So if that apple falls
A long way from the tree
Into a waterfall
Where the ocean meets the sea
Well maybe, you will be waiting there for me
So she came back from the clinic
And we had a bedroom funeral
She was on the ground crying
She was curled up in a ball
Said her Daddy made her do it
Give up that faceless child
Saying she was “too young
To throw away her life”
Well she never quite recovered
So many things were left unsaid
Over time those things become
Dripping taps inside your head
If I could just have an epiphany
Maybe I could make things right
Fall down twice
You gotta stand up thrice
‘Cause when she was a little girl
A man did something obscene
And to this day she feels unclean
And when she sleeps she screams
A little girl is like a sandcastle
Washed to sea, and so fragile, fragile
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