The Brokdedown Palace of My Head Songtext
von Brown Bird

Gas gauge is in the orange,
And my mouth is dry.
These clothes are torn.
So softly, place all your fingers
On the brokedown palace
Of my head


Each contusion is a battle
I remember well for awhile.
But I know, at least I think,
That it all works out
With kinder infiltration,
Or a hard-earned retreat.

Hallowed be this hellish place
Where by and by we will will come.
When no one sees there′s no disgrace,
We sometimes prefer the shadows to the sun.

Hallowed be this hellish place
Where by and by we will come.
When no one sees there's no disgrace,
We sometimes prefer the shadows to the sun.