Psych/jazz/rock freakout middle section, lyrics dealing with loneliness yet is not a tale of depression. It is more a tale of desperation and past demons.
Lyrics by A. Cottrell
Music by General Sherman and the Fried Peaches
Produced by Greg Surber
Guitar/Vox - Aaron Cottrell
Guitar - Kyle Sutton
Drums - Adam Hardy
Bass - Nate Cottrell
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Music and lyrics written for the most part just a few days before our first show and has been our closer ever since.
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(Preverse)Well I'm leavin', ain't gonna come back 'round here no more
ain't comin' 'round no more
ain't comin' 'round no more
I got nothin', nothin' left but these two old dusty shoes
and these highway blues
and these highway blues
The sun is kissin' the lips of that godless, heathen sea.
And I can swim all right but that place just ain't for me.
So now I turn, I swear, there's voices in my head
Sayin' "take that road again, my friend, you're better off dead."
And all this talk of death has got me walkin'.
I can feel the devil's breath now hear the hellhounds stalkin'.
Repeat preverse
And now those lines are stretchin' out like a growin' child
My pulse is slowin' down but my brain is runnin' wild
The devil keeps pace whispers nothin's in my ear
Says "death's gonna be the end my friend. Ain't that what you wanna hear?"
And all these thoughts of death have got me walkin'.
I can smell the devil's breath now hear the hellhounds stalkin'
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