The Humid Press Of Days Lyrics by Camper Van Beethoven

The Humid Press Of Days Lyrics

    What did it mean to fly
    A tremor in your soul
    To resist the dull existence of gravity
    Upward bound, trees fly
    Two meadows and a fields
    And the border is a simple line of hills
    Ah, didja come uncoiled
    Between heavens and the earth
    Whispered nonsense into your radio
    Now afternoons you seldom move
    Grounded to a little bit of earth
    And, after all, time barely crawls
    Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
    What did it mean to fly
    When you were bound to the earth
    A release from the humid press of days
    Now afternoons it hardly moves
    I wonder how you make it through each day
    And, after all, time barely crawls
    Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
    What did it mean to fly
    A tremor in your soul
    To resist the dull existence of gravity
    What did it mean to you
    An early chat with death
    To pull your body for a moment from your soul

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