Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Thomas Jefferson, artist - Astronautalis.
Date of issue: 12.09.2011
Song language: English
Thomas Jefferson |
Every song I sing cuts a little bit more |
You could never connect the copper cast with the mold |
You could never guess, you could never guess |
You could never guess where I come from, no |
Every mile I drive, further down this road |
Tears a little more off of my bones |
And you could never guess, you could never guess |
You could never guess where I come from, no |
The first thing they was taught, was how to load and lock |
Take that aim and shot, embrace the pain of shoulder blade taking stock |
Watch 'em drop, pull the bolt back, load another up till the clip goes «pop» |
Till you sweep your block, and you can hear a pin drop |
In a place that’s more comfortable with «pop pop pop pop» |
The first thing they learned, was how to plant that carbine in the earth |
Prop that helmet on the stock, hang them dog tags from the lock |
Say your prayers and mark the spot |
Where the body’s interred then turn, taciturn |
And take that walk, taste that salt |
Sprinkle a little bit of lye in the earth, don’t cry when it hurts |
Cause you ain’t done yet son, spill a little bit more blood |
Everybody knows what comes from the warm wet red mud |
Best believe, when you fall to your knees |
You’re gon' cry, you’re gon' pray for peace |
And they gonna plant them seeds of the winter wheat |
And the Georgia peach watered up with your red rum |
I know he would’ve loved this, but he had to die to give it |
I melted down his musket, turned it to a tool |
Tilling like a fool to see where his blood went |
See if I can grow something beautiful above it |
Standing guard above my garden till the seeds take root |
Taking shade under the trees with the sweet grapefruit |
I’ll take my yields and his old boots till the leaves shake loose |
I will die in these fields, but my seeds will move |
The ox and yoke know every note I hum |
Written in the grass by the midday sun |
The lamp lit ahead of me with the earth between my feet |
I’ll sing a song into the breeze, let it fold the wheat |