The taste of blue skies
Like Frank Sinatra's eyes
And open pools of blood
You bet they never looked so good
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Tonight I dream, I dream of New Orleans
We're spinning
Out of control again
But the taste of the ocean floors and time will tell,
"Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, baby
Maybe we'll meet again,"
Well, get out of your car, come on kiss me
"Mechanical blades
And address books with no names,"
It's the stories I trade
And knives wrapped in lace
Tonight I dream, I dream of New Orleans
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
We're spinning
Out of control again
But the taste of the ocean floors and time will tell,
"Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, baby
Maybe we'll meet again,"
Well, get out of your car, whore, come on kiss me
(I dream of New Orleans)
Lift your casket to the sky
I hope tonight I die
I hope tonight we die
I'm coming home
Home
Tonight I dream of New Orleans
(I got a gun in New Orleans)
Can a man witness his own funeral?
(He's got a gun)
Tonight I dream, I dream of New Orleans
I dream of New Orleans.
Top Trophy Scars songs
- There Are Ghosts
- The Hair-trigger Flamenco
- Sleep Little Nemo - The Kidnapping!
- The Arcane Symbols
- Shadows Of The Koga Ninja
- Hospital For Ghosts
- The Moche Skeleton Dance
- Alchemist. Alchemists.
- Dreams Of New Orleans
- Traps And Tricks And Such
- Jerry's The Name, Sociology's The Game
- rachel, I Think He's Dead They Screamed
- Lindsay And The Endless Wall Of Alarm Clocks
- Lesson 3
- Cats As A Measurement Of Time