From the recording Jericho

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Pilot Oak

We spent our whole Sunday evening
Painting over nursery walls
We still ain’t spoke much since the bleeding
You’d think by now that we’d moved on
There’s a silence down the hallway
It’s thick as San Fransisco fog
If you listen close you can hear the heartache
Like ivy crawling up these walls

Oh-oh Pilot Oak
Feels like we’re sinking like a stone
Oh-oh Pilot Oak
You’re feeling less and less like home

November wind is sharp as ever
The cold grey smothered out the sun
I thought a week off might make it better
It only swelled the damage done
It’s getting hard now to feel the lonesome
Like my nerves are served at my spine
As for today we’re one step closer
To being swallowed by the county line


You’re eyes are hopeless hard and hollow
The same girl that I once tried to save
I swear I’ll get you outta here tomorrow
Before this rut we’re in becomes our grave