Texty: Mountain Goats, The. Going To Bogata.

i know what i want

and i know what we need

when the first fruits of the harvest

begin to blacken and bleed

and the purple fruit gives way when you press it

even so slightly

and through the thatches behind the green leaves

we heard the fire-eyed mccaw sing as evil as you please

his little song

is a very pretty song

but its something i won't stand for



and as the sun rises over columbia

i know we're done for



when the holes started forming in the tent

and you wondered out loud where the sunlight went

i had a mind to tell you

but i didn't want to hurt you

and if i knew how to form the words

i would ask you what you'd come for



but as the sun rises over columbia

i know we're done for



yeah as the sun rises over columbia

i know we're done for

as the sun rises over columbia

i know we're done for