Holy Water – Void.(helloiamvoid) Lyrics
This song is a love letter
Thank you for all we've been through
Oven-seared, pan wagyu steak, paired with right-bank Bordeaux gently hugging sautéed greens; Children? Sage risotto
Their nosy neighbors: a village of autumn roses patrolled by the satin floating in the lake of the man-made stars
Yes, I know this ain’t your chateaux
But I just finished baking; I’m really glad that you called
But this house gives mid-December; The missing present, your warmth
I know, LA traffic and Texas in the fall
So, I’ll sit at my piano so that I can deck the halls
Givе me some bass, a little high hat on drums
I pray that you feel this mеlody, you pull over and hum
Steering clear of the world’s “accidents”, these hits, you can’t run
Whiffing the heaven from behind your seat, our town’s little “drug”
And if we blow off the wedding while our guests are in the clouds, I’ll book our seats in the I.S.S.; communion is in the lounge
The brass band’s playing “Insane for Ya”, we dance for a round
I sweep his feet off the ground, ‘till I hear those jingle bells sound
I drowned him in the holy water, bordering New Orleans
North past Bourbon Street
Up in the quarter, they’ll tell you all about me for a dollar
About how I took him to the holy water, thought it’d wipe my conscience clean: From the water
I drowned him
I drowned him in the holy water
The grande diener’s inside my office
The chief’s negotiating a pardon, but I’ve been cheesin’ his daughter, I call her autumn
Veil covering up the mug, hot chocolate
Pillows ascended; Fast forward, I’m making my way to the altar
Our heavenly Author, your daylight’s saving November; it’s flourishing in my garden
So, I picked the leftover lilies; Peeped angels covering the boarders with polaroids of my brothers
Mary: the chosen mother of the fountain martyr, your honor
There’s my briefcase, dirty laundry; purify me at dawn
The suds of stationed internment, dissipate while on the run
You’ve breathed the core of my sun; the anatomy of a star
For you, my next act of love; I'll simply walk through a door:
My bread and butter, the valley
Oil for Lamb; smoked, all gunned
Shots in the glass; this is dinner, my choice, a bottle of love
Wasted in this cabin of keys, floating ‘till I hit the ground
Sirens are making their rounds, till this joint burns to the brown
I drowned him in the holy water, bordering New Orleans
Down in a bayou, North past Bourbon Street
Up in the quarter, they tell you all about me for a dollar
About how I took him to the holy water, thought it’d wipe my conscience clean
And now all I see are shades of green from the water on his collar
I’ll call my lawyer and tell them how I drowned him in the holy water
