Hey, my name is Karl-Christoph. I just wrote and recorded this song this morning.
If you could pass it forward or reblog it - it would mean the world to me.
Merry Christmas.
www.facebook.com/karlchristophmusic

Sick At Heart

So I played the war until the war got old
and stories spread of golden bells
that rang so pure they could cure the sick at heart.

The carriage-works are always wound
like wounds around the neck and mouth
I’d take you to bed, but i’m too sick at heart.

So we fell deep
within the sea on Christmas Eve.
With bloody knees
and photographs of our chipped teeth.
Where we slept like leaves in gutted city streets.

I swept down streets like a fabled plague
those blood stained sheets that warmed our days
and arches so old, to hold our love in vine.

So we fell deep
within the sea on Christmas Eve.
With bloody knees
and photographs of our chipped teeth.
Where we slept like leaves in gutted city streets.

Now the strings are snapped on that old guitar,
you fell asleep and crashed your car
with moonlight on wide and sorry eyes.

You’ve heard it all in those old wives tales
you’ve thrown a rock and split your sails
and now there’s nothing left, but to drift apart.
 
So we fell deep
within the sea on Christmas Eve.
With bloody knees
and photographs of our chipped teeth.
Where we slept like leaves in gutted city streets.