In our bedroom, late tonight
Wallpaper looks like a map in this light
One thousand highways and a million tiny towns
I trace the contours and I walk the lines
And the wicked wind whips at the door
Wakes the cat up and
Freezes the floor
And the wicked wind sings of a place
That promises everything
Can’t be erased
Through the cobwebs and the dark plaster dust
Our map marks a land of mistrust
And in my mind I find a road uncrossed
And disappear on it in the fog and exhaust
And the wicked wind weeps at our door
Creeps into our bedroom and
Freezes the floor
And the wicked wind swirls over head
Descends slowly and
Settles on our bed
I walked a highway doesn’t appear on this map
That runs from my nightmares, is riddled with traps
Of misquided wanderings and forelorn lusts
That killed the true love, the kindness, the trust
And the wicked wind wails at our door
Sends you packin’ and
Pacing the floor
And the wicked wind whips at your face
As you walk your own highway
To the undiscovered place
And the wicked wind wails at our door
Sends you packin’ and
Pacing the floor
Now the wicked wind whips at your face
As you walk your own highway
To the undiscovered place
credits
from The Art of Living,
released July 12, 2012
Matthew Causey (Guitars, Vocals)
Matthew Nolan (Bass)
Bryan O'Connell (Drums)
Rhiannon Clark (Backing Vocals)
Ritchie Buckley (Saxophone)
N. C. Lawlor (Pedal Steel)
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