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lyrics

Well I look to the sky but all I see
is that big blue umbrella
keeping cathartic rains from falling on my head
silhouette snippets and thoughts like crickets
making all kinds of racket
with rationalizations of time well spent
my heads been filled
with blanks and bullets
and I don't have control of either one
all of these head wounds are self inflicted
and maliciously situated
like that lonely chair propped up against heavens door knob

self-induced religions bear fruit only when faith falls floundering

well I've waded through false beliefs
and seeping skin from the girls all along the streets
balancing the bible and the American dream on my head
with out standing debts in the passage of time
but old photographs are epitaphs
with a little grace and insight

I've sen it on my faces
strained redemption with all it's blemishes
being backed by popular demand
well what good are these heroes
riding ideas on downward spirals
their words are from no language I can use here

30 miles shy of Omaha I wonder wondered I just done
then I realize that I'm finally living in the moment
this highway's pink with conversion
Lord have mercy for these home town citadels
the prodigal son is home
won't you wish him well

credits

from Redemption (out of print), released October 1, 1996
TJ - guitar, vocals
Eric Griffin - drums
Marty Letz - pedal steel
Eric Straumanis - bass
Darren Matthews - lead guitar

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Tom Jessen Temple, Maine

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