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St. Caroline Ingles

from Third Peter by Short Hand

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lyrics

There’s nowhere to look
And there’s nothing to find
The reasons are lost like a kiss
You’d think that I’d learn
But, no, I don’t learn
I fall like a doll in a pit

St. Caroline Ingles, muse from afar
Please help me get up again
St. Caroline Ingles, lover of Charles
Please help me get up again

The boxes are checked
The architecture is wrecked
Like Napoleon at Waterloo
The good old days
Are ashes and grey
But dangle like bait on a hook

Down from my cortex
Some boys come running
All hiding from the cops
Balanced up high
Just wobbly kites
They dive from the rooftops

It might take a bit
But in the end it might
just happen in a flash
it’s like you can’t breath
But you can, just the thing,
Is each breath is a question you ask

credits

from Third Peter, released June 18, 2021

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Short Hand Muncie, Indiana

Short Hand figures that it's easier to learn to play an instrument than it is to find someone who can play it. He also figures that it's easier for him to do the writing, recording, mixing, artwork, and anything else that might need to be done. In the end, a set of sounds collect themselves into different shapes one might call "albums." Some sound like this and some sound like that. ... more

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