After the Albatross

Who reads the paper anymore
Who knows what's happening anymore

Holy intruder, please leave your shoes at the door
If we're here come Sunday, your knock will deliver our souls

The locusts are returning to the hills
Insecticide replacing oval pills
Surrender all your sons too hard to fill
They're treating us like human beings still

Oleanders, fall on the endless grey shores
Sands of strangers, push and pull out through the floors

Holy intruder, please leave your shoes at the door
If we're here come Sunday, your knock will deliver our souls



Credits
Writer(s): Franklin Brady
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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