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Trees of Stone

from The Hornbook by Pingüinos

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lyrics

Oh rosey youre so far from me tonight
I still feel your fingers in my spine
You're older and wiser
Am I still naïve to believe
That I can change time

Oh Mathew I miss you
Now your leagues across sea
Albany is nothing like back home
It’s a different kind of cold
Lonely’s not the word
There's a lack of color here
The trees are made of stone

On mother I keep dreaming
of the things that get me screaming awake
Mother you don’t fear,
when your day comes you’ll be far away
From the bedsides and frustration
old age is amputation of the soul
You’ll be free you’ll be free from it all

Andy’s in the mountain way up north
I bet the bird sing along to your verse
My brother I get this feeling
when we’re older we’ll never be alone
Feel no sense of obligation
Ill be sitting at the station on tender hooks

credits

from The Hornbook, released June 30, 2011
Louis Apicello - Horns
Seth Tillinghast - Drums
Peter Mollica - Vocals, Guitar

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Pingüinos Queens, New York

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