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The Decemberists: "Everything actually is awful, and it's not that funny"
Colin Meloy chats with Dork about getting out of old habits, branching out into literature and what’s next for The Decemberists.
Nov 7, 2018 • 3:30 PM
Lyrics
It was late one night, I was counting out my stitches Laying by the side of the road I was a long time gone, slipping off my britches Feeling like it's time to go home Yeah, feeling like it's time to go home And in this dream, Bill Tecumseh Sherman Glowered at the foot of my bed He was long and lean, he spoke in perfect German And I recorded all that he said Yeah, I recorded all that he said And he said We all die young We all die young We all die young We all die young When I woke next day, layered in the lashings Feeling for the hole in my head I was thinking 'bout my dad, thinking 'bout the nashings Of all the bitter things that he said Yeah, all the worrying things that he had said And he said We all die young We all die young We all die young We all die young Son, he said We all die young (We all die young) We all die young (We all die young) We all die young (We all die) we all die young And it came to pass when everything had ended The world was just a grubby balloon And I spoke up, said: Sorry if I've offended This voice came from the back of the room Oh, screaming from the back of the room It said We all die young (We all die young) We all die young (We all die young) We all die young (We all die) we all die young One more time We all die young Bill Tecumseh Sherman We all die young Sorry if I've offended We all die young (We all die) we all die young We all die young We all die young We all die, we all die young We all die young We all die young We all die, we all die young
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