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Marty O'Reilly & the Old Soul Orchestra
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Cold Canary Gaslight
Amy's like a bible and acts just like a birdcage,
oars like an engine, dying out on burnt rage.
You can blow out all the candles, fire up the limelight,
she looks stone with the cold canary gaslight.
Oh Sister oh now, don't you look at what I've done.
Oh Sister oh now, don't you look at what I've done.
Father's at the front door, dusting off the floormat,
brittle like his thick bark, tired like his old hat.
He used to wonder how a young boy travels to a grown man,
said he walked on water, he was dancing on quicksand.
Oh Father oh now, don't you look at what I've done.
Oh Father oh now, don't you look at what I've done.
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And you see me tearing up my floorboards, white sheets, colored youth,
fire in my eyes, and water pouring through the roof.
And you heard I found a mineshaft, digging past midnight,
going to the door with the cold canary gaslight.
And I tried to throw a rope down, didn't feel it pull back,
dead canary chirping now, cold blood and pitch black.
I said oh, no
I said oh, no
I said oh, no
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