THE WHIRLAWAY

©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)

GRAY SUNDAY...NAMELESS
SEA SOUR, DIRT BROWN
I KNOW THIS PLACE
I OWE A LOT TO THIS PLACE
THIS IS WERE DEBTS ARE PAID
EVERYTHING IS ONLY A LOAN, ANYWAY

UP, UP
CLIFF, ICY, WINDING
UP, UP
I BIRD, I ROCK, I WATER
I TRADE, I OFFER
BARTER WITH THE WHIRLAWAY
DEAL WITH THE WHIRLAWAY
THE WHIRLAWAY

GRAY SUNDAY...NAMELESS
WAVES CRUSH TENDER SECONDS
COLD TERMS FOR EXTRA MOMENTS
TIDE SWELL SPRAYS A PROMISE
OF SCRAP TIME, PAWNED MINUTES
STOLEN FROM THE WHIRLAWAY
GRAY SUNDAY...NAMELESS

BUT I USE IT WELL
I WASTE NONE OF IT
YOU'LL WANT IT BACK
OK, IT WAS YOURS TO BEGIN WITH
I'LL DESERVE MORE BUT THAT'S A USELESS ARGUMENT

I'LL COME BACK TO SETTLE UP
THAT'S NOT FORGOTTEN
I'LL KEEP MY SIDE OF THE BARGAIN
THOSE ROCKS WON'T LOOK SO HARD
WHEN I IMAGINE PILLOWS OR FEATHERS
OR WARM HANDS HOLDING ME
SURRENDER TO MY DESTINY/cash in what donít belong to me
TURN AROUND...LAST LOOK...BLUE FLAG FLYING
STEP BACK
BACK INTO THE WHIRLAWAY