Testo The Weather

Where I go, where I go?
Bring me home

All that glows, ain't so gold
Pharaoh's ghost
Broken nose, they say they know
Who really knows?
Impossible Azure lows, ocean floors
Escaping souls
Murder crows, buzzard toes
Trauma holds
To fly Igbo, or to Jericho
Home's foreclosed
Digging holes, mining souls
Sludge to smoke
Buried bone, extraction coal
Takes its toll
Texaco, melts the cold
Now seasons old
Roman roads, mislead me home (400 blows)
Possible, impossible
Where I go, where I'm gone
Bring me homе