Words and Music by Brian McCaskil

What Does It Matter to You


Nico

I've kept you running,
stoned washed eyes
to keep you on your smile.
It doesn't need any sunlight,
It'll grow just fine.

Tell me water, I'll tell you of ice,
Something other than rust.
I'd like to taste such a sweet
mashed on the flames of forgotten pain.
Locked out on ivory coals,
and hushed words spoken loud,
So I can smell them burning.

Your denim skin,
cardboard eyes,
toiling speech,
and scotch blood eyes