Atmosphere: The river

It was a purple purple sky in an orange orange roomand everyone was whistlen the same damn tuneexcept bryan, bryan starred out across the field and watched the horizon blossum the copper feel over the edge of the world the one they're all afriad to walkration out for why their so high on the small talkbut bryan knows where the crows all goto find the ifs and the ands and the buts and all sosif i can run through the woods and speed like the lighti'd find the answers to why and be back by tonightif i could fly through the fog and look at this rocki'd figure out how to keep hell off of my blockbut as it stands i stay contenttryin to be the magic man and pay my rentand wishin that bryan would turn me onto the secrets he sought while we keep burnin the dawn just to keep the day hotif i could ask you one question id ask where you wentyou could teach me a lesson everytime i got bentbut the alcohol dont make me forget about it alldoesnt matter the season the leaves can still fallthey slipt hidden messages within the cards that were delti understand myself and all the sorrow i feltfor as simple as i am how'd it get so complexgot me studyin the margins and disregardin the texti open the curtins and listen to the traffic gobut i still get nervous each time a piece passes gothe resado is thick and the memory failsi still laugh because the path feels alot like a trailif i can run through the woods and speed like the lighti'd find the answers to why and be back by tonightif i could fly through the fog and look at this rocki'd figure out how to keep hell off of my blockbut as it stands i stay contenttryin to be the magic man and pay my rentand wishin that bryan would turn me onto the secrets he sought while we keep burnin the dawn just to keep the day hotwe used to be a couple of pimps walking the hallways with pridedrunk or sober life was nothin short a roller coaster ridetrips to the clubs now lets go to the rythmall we wanted out of life was what was givenand when you passed i wanted to take back the time we wastedid trade all the buzzes in for one more conversationwe could sit in the shade and discuss the meaning of sacredcuz i cant see the garden no more just the avons?but the wind still blows and the plants still growand i wish your name was on the guest list at my showsi gotta believe that you can see me run out of my freedomcuz you got to meet the sun before you got to meet my sonand when i see lightning feels like my buzz hightningeverytime i feel the sun i can smell the loveadn when i smell the air i can hear a child tryingbut everytime i hear a river i i think the mother cryingand when i see lightning feels like my buzz hightningeverytime i feel the sun i can smell the loveadn when i smell the air i can hear a child tryingbut everytime i hear a river i i think the mother cryingeverytime i think of you i know your laughterand when i hear of you i know your laughter