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Fran Verian's grandmonther caught a letter from Heavensaying that the children of her children's generation would be devils walking the Earth.And when I hear this it somehow feels right.It feels familiar.Like the ghost story about the traveling young couplewho break down near a town where a lunatic is on the loose.Boy runs for help, remember?Girl hides, covers up on the floorboard.An hour later there is a single knock on the car top.And then another, steady, all night long.And when day breaks girl finds boyhanging upside down where the wind blowsknockin his knuckles on the window.And in every dream I might have heard that ghost story.Her words barge in and out of me nowbut I don't know if that's twice a day or once a weekbecause each time still feels like the first.Devils, she called us.Waling the earth.And when I hear this I can't moveAnd I can't breathecause it feels so much like ghost stories and bad dreams.Makes me desperate to hold the hand of Fran Verian's grandmother.Not as hard as I'd like to.I'd keep it calm so I don't seem desperateSongtextebut I do ya'llI get so desperateDesperate to know if she caught a second lettersaying anything from anywhere up abovethat could have might of have maybe mentioned othersNot devilsbut Otherswith halos shaped like roller coasters you'dstand in line to ride twiceOthers who don't know how to tell you and still remain humbleAnd it's been a long since anyone has called them beautifuland it's been even longer since they heard they were brightbut Frannie's grandma doesn't remember catchin any other lettersjust the one saying that the children of her children's generationwould be devils walking the earthAnd when I hear this ma, it hurtshard, from my chestlike the dream with the fear of the manforever his fattness all hatehe straddles like whispers my stomach and grins trough my facethe weight of his head so blood red rigged up crusted and thickspit eyes full out like the chokehold teeth split ears twisted all dark deaf now goddamnitwould you keep it still?And I do ya'llI get scared so still it feels like statues and windleft in a garden behind some old white house in a dead wheat fieldwhere if anyone would just yell mercy maybe these lungs would finally fillbut Fran Verian's grandmother caught a letter from Heavensaying that the children of her children's generation would be devils walking the earthand as I gasp and pull for a full breath of airlike air is the only way outHer words barge through me againAs if somehowthey're true Aus Songtexte Mania