Those first stretches of morning after a long night, you know them – it’s quiet outside, the kind of peaceful that soothes and then turns sad. What I’d give on these days of mine to amble like Kris Kristofferson or Johnny Cash, nursing tobacco stains and a wounded outlaw soul. Me, I wear the boots but skip the beer for lack of mettle.
This strained and breaking cover by Phosphorescent seems a salve to us less-than-rebel souls, for our lonely Sunday side-walks in skinny-leg pants.
Posted on 07/02/2008
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My Trusted MOGs
I am such a sucker for those tortured sounding voices...this is amazing!!!!
My Trusted MOGs
thanks for this also, have been missing your posts.
My Trusted MOGs
this is a great version. ohhh, i miss catching the smell of someone's frying chicken( this could be one of the strangest, great lines of all time)
My Trusted MOGs
Wow. I love it. Makes me sad, which is my preferred emotion. Thanks.
My Trusted MOGs
i love that sunday morning feeling...
My Trusted MOGs
in my own little way, i know those nights, those pants, those outlaws, and those less-than-rebellious acts. it's always good to see the knowledge, um, acknowledged.
C, i terribly miss your writing, it's one of the few that truly inspires me. (i.e. where are you?!?)
My Trusted MOGs
nice