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Haunting, intelligent singer-songwriter.

Method in our madness

Method in our madness

Beware of the lunatics
Off the beaten path
Finally got a hose to my car But by now I had run out ofgas

Then I saw a stranger’s hand
Then I saw a stranger’s hand
And a voice that lead me to a promised land

Metallic taste like a greasy coin Everything is between God and me My nerves burn like gasoline
And there’s blood inside my shoes My head hurts like its pistol whipped Imbalanced like the blues

Then I saw a stranger’s hand
Then I saw a stranger’s hand
And a voice that lead me to a promised land

The moon she looks suspended
Like a chiselled cuttlebone dagger
Sharp enough to draw blood from a stone Half-mast at Jacob’s Ladder
Grandpa’s old pill tin safe in my pocket Where my potions and medicines rattle

My madness finally controlled by the method No more psychobabble

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