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From a Room

from Black Mission Figs by Matt Oleksa

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lyrics

Heaven comes in a bag
You get it down at Joe’s
You get it where the ghouls stare
Right through you clothes
The tall one turns her cheek
The second he hears you speak
And turns you in for a swig of gin
And is up and down the street
Now, now don’t you worry
That was out of sight
And I ain’t in no hurry
I’ve got all night

Doctor Stephen’s stumblin’
Toastin’ Roanoke
The queen’s dream’s busted at the seam
Domes of stone to smoke
The bad juice spilled through the valley
About the time the levee broke
When landlady sailed a lily for sale
Under my door as a joke
Now, now don’t you worry
The window’s boarded up
And I ain’t in no hurry
The door’s bolted shut

Your sackcloth and ashes
Your satchel of silver spoons
Two tickets to the desert, mid-June
Ten years in Sam’s platoon
All fall one short of the sum
Of a noose tied to a balloon
And the chance to dance, to rave and prance
Silhouetted by the blue in the moon
Now, now don’t you worry
That was long ago
And I ain’t in no hurry
There’s nowhere to go

The professor’s back from the gutter
She drips up and down the hall
So vaguely she mutters to me
Specifically what to call
The neighbor dog floatin’ by on an armoire
Iron spires in the eye of a perch
The drownin’ man clutchin’ for sand
Blue milk drippin’ from the birch tree blossoms
But ma, don’t you worry
Life's but a dream
And I ain’t in no hurry
Things ain’t what they seem to be

Heaven comes in a bag
You get it down at Joe’s

credits

from Black Mission Figs, released June 16, 2015
Matt Oleksa: vocals, guitar
Kevin Bass: guitar, bass
Erik Roget: percussion

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Matt Oleksa Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

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