Music and lyrics by Sam Quinn

the walls of jericho were all caved in
the road rose up like i was falling
a porcelain doll made of human skin
scares the living shit out of me
come mid-september it shouldn’t be bad
people always talk about a friend we had
i drove by the house, but couldn’t get out
this suitcase reminds me i’m free
words my father said to me
there is nothing there you should be leaving
i took a look around, but i never could see
i threw my eyes to the wind

weight, weight, i am weighting again
home, home, you are a friend that i never see
you had a funeral just for me
you knew i wouldn’t have the time

i never would have said it if you never had called
all night running on the alcohol
the porch light burned for a week again
but a suitcase reminds me i’m free
daylight dripping off a graveyard face
an empty vessel at an even pace
the sidewalk leaned into the breeze again
the mountains played with the trees

weight, weight, i am weighting again
home, home, you are a friend that i never see
they had a funeral just for me
you knew i wouldn’t have the time

the daylight is making me sick again
a gap in the door to let the fear in
holes in the story about where i’ve been
the reception remains to be seen
there’s a toothbrush, a photograph, a dirty shirt
my backpack reminds me that my back hurts
a stack of blank pages where i keep this dream
and a suitcase that reminds me i’m free

weight, weight, i am weighting again
home, home, you are a friend that i never see
you had a funeral just for me
you knew i wouldn’t have the time

Sam Quinn ■ lead vocal ■ bass
Cruz Contreras ■ harmony vocal ■ electric guitar
Dustin Schaefer ■ harmony vocal ■ electric guitars
Bowman Townsend ■ drums
Jamie Candiloro ■ Hammon B3 organ ■ Wurlitzer organ