Gregory Alan Isakov

Gregory Alan Isakov

This fella’s voice is so soothing and puts me on a cloud. I’m heading to Glasgow today on a train and I believe he will be in my ear the entire time. Love it!

So you can sing along…

Well Grace she is gone she’s a half written poem
She went out for cigarettes and never came home
And I swallowed the sun and screamed and wailed
Straight down to the dirt so I could find her trail
Spread out across the great divine

Well I just came to talk Saint Valentine
I never pictured you living here
With the rats and the vines
Ain’t that my own heart
Hanging out on your line?
Are you all fucked up?
Saint Valentine

Now I circle the bars on the promenade
While the girls in the glass they’re just throwing me shades
And I’m saving my coins up for Jingle and Jane

While she’s out plucking strings in the pouring pouring
She’s out plucking strings in the pouring rain

See I’m all crooked feet Saint Valentine
I’ve circled this map till it caught on fire

Now Grace she has left she’s just skin and bones
Well you hang up your hat
But you can’t call it home
Well you’ve tried and you’ve tried
But you can’t call it home

You’re the loneliest one Saint Valentine
You’re the loneliest one Saint Valentine
Are you all fucked up?
Saint Valentine
Ahh….Ahhh…..

Lyrics by Song Lyric



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