The light's crawling quietly across the cold carpet
It's passed through the double-panes windows and blinds
It's moving so slow like a small, ghostly army
Approaching my bed in perfect parade lines
And I don't know the age of the old rock of ages
'Cause I don't ask no questions of heavenly hosts
But when the shadows move in and the leaves turn like pages
It's just like a slow marching army of ghosts
And the static-y speakers on this old record player
Are sharing some secrets I don't wanna know
And it's funny how static on old televisions
And crystalized rainfall, we call 'em both snow
And I don't know the age of the old rock of ages
'Cause I don't ask no questions of heavenly hosts
But when the shadows move in and the leaves turn like pages
It's just like a slow marching army of ghosts
Milk leaks from the bottle and drips to the counter
And flows across the kitchen in a pasty white flood
It's like an invisible army is passing
And dragging their wounded and dripping their blood
And I don't know the age of the old rock of ages
'Cause I don't ask no questions of heavenly hosts
But when the shadows move in and the leaves turn like pages
It's just like a slow marching army of ghosts
credits
from Archer Hollow,
released November 5, 2013
Words and music by Anthony Bowman
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