Days Come Down Songtext
von Matthew Good

They buried me in a suit made of old ladders
And magazines
Mold city pages, of Mother Jones and The Nation
Better living bits of patience, which you need
Drove away in the Valiant my old man let it gave me
Slant six, busted taillight, ivory green

When the days come down
And we′re laid right out
Catch you catching me
When the days come down


I was interred in a church without no ceiling
With a bear who was out eating, watching from the trees
As I stood upon the water, their silhouettes my daughter
Waving back at me
Well, sometimes I get it, what it is I came for
Like the screaming of your first born, sounds like singing

When the days come down
And you're laid right out
Catch you catching me
When the days come down

Catch you catching me, oh
Catch you catching me
Catch you catching me, oh oh
Catch you catching me
Catch you catching me, oh
Catch you catching me