The Wonder Years - A Song For Ernest Hemingway

The sky goes from concrete to charcoal
I'm laying on my back on the roof
I'm gonna shoot these clouds full of holes
I need some fucking light to pour through
Because December's got me up against the ropes
And I don't know how to get loose
I can't get feeling back in my toes
I'm walking in circles with you
Like we're lost Canadian geese
I should be south of here already
I'll be your dead bird
You'll be my bloodhound
You're just doing what you're told
Pick my body off the ground
I'll be your dead bird
I'm staring at Hemingway's shotgun
I picture him drinking alone
He's forgetting things that he wouldn't have before
His eyesight's starting to go
And I heard all about how his plane went down after Christmas in the Congo
He read about his own death in the paper
I bet it was freeing to know
When you destroy anything worth chasing
There's nowhere left to go
I'll be your dead bird
You'll be my bloodhound
You're just doing what you're told
Pick my body off the ground
I'll be your dead bird
Hanging from your mouth
You're doing what you're told
Gonna make your master proud
It's good to know
I didn't die for nothing
December's got me backed into a corner again
My ears are back
My teeth are showing
I'm combing through the wreckage trying to find where I've been
I still get phantom pains
But from a safer distance
I'll be your dead bird
You'll be my bloodhound
You're just doing what you're told
Pick my body off the ground
I'll be your dead bird
Hanging from your mouth
You're doing like you're told
Gonna make your master proud
It's good to know
I didn't die for nothing
December's got me backed into a corner again
My ears are back
I didn't die for nothing
My teeth are showing
I'm combing through the wreckage trying to find where I've been
I still get phantom pains
I didn't die for nothing