Dead Photographers

We got dipped in silver

We got hollow cores

We had sacks of daylight

We were awful bored

Too late we find our feet

We start rushing to the floor

Rushing to the floor

And you might be captured

And you can stay

But I'm moving away

From dead photographers

I'm moving away

From dead photographers

All this beauty in the way

All this beauty in the way

We had shallow water

We had feet of clay

We had hours of daylight

We were turning gray

Too late we find our tide

Draining out into the bay

Out into the bay

And you might be captured

And you can stay

But I'm moving away

From dead photographers

I'm moving away

From dead photographers

All this beauty in the way

All this beauty in the way

...