WES YOAKAM

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Friday, October 24, 2014

It’s a radiant summer sunset On an explosion-red afternoon I sit above the city on a hill on watch the sky I can see so clearly Clouds stretching out for miles and miles I can hear your heartbeat Even here at the edge of the world I’ll send you a postcard from the edge of the world

Silver towers shine like modern day cathedrals Glowing bright with power and electronic flowers I can hear them calling out Talking without listening at all Radio static questions Asked without attempt to understand Running without thinking Ambition without reason Trying their best to capture dreams With suicide machines I watch it all from the edge of the world I’ll send you a postcard from the edge of the world

It’s a tickertape parade For the awful mess that daddy made And there’s no room left to hide Or sweep it under the rug

I’ll send you a postcard from the edge of the world

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