The Preacher from Clean by Suicide Seven

I want to paint clean my self-righteous mood
My self-righteous mood all the way down
I want to paint clean my self-righteous mood
My self-righteous mood
all the way down down down down down
Shoot a hole through your belly is what I’ll do
Through your belly is what I’ll do
Let your cries and screams pull me through
Shoot a hole through your belly is what I’ll do
Through your belly is what I’ll do
Let your cries and screams pull me through it…
It’s getting harder to tell
It’s getting harder to tell
Shades of grey from the light
It’s getting harder to tell
It’s getting harder to tell
Shades of grey from my brilliant sunshine
Blood spills over wishing wells
She dreams complacence
it’s so disarming
I want to fall
Baby let the preacher fall
Crumble off my soapbox
Back against the wall
It’s getting harder to tell
It’s getting harder to tell
Shades of grey from the light
It’s getting harder to tell
It’s getting harder to tell
Shades of grey from my brilliant sunshine

• Alternative
• Damien Rice
• Elliot Smith
• Folk
• Garage Rock
• Iron and Wine
• americana lofi modern
• modern folk
• Springfield