Gregory Alan Isakov
San Luis
Weightlessness, no gravity
Were we somewhere in-between?
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s-eye view of San Luis
Oh, highway boys all sleeping in
With their dirty mouths and broken strings
Oh, their eyes are shining like the sea
For you, the queen of San Luis
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s-eye view of San Luis
Cutting through the avenues
I’d always find my way to you
Beside the hook, the hammer lies
Fumbling round in the smoke
Spending timе chasing ghosts
Hold me down, hold me down, child
Hold me down, hold mе down, child
California called you queen
With your golden hair and magazine
Were you somewhere in-between?
Fast asleep, a flying dream
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s-eye view of San Luis
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s-eye view of San Luis
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s-eye view of San Luis
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s-eye view of San Luis