(Matt Embree's solo project, Love You Moon)
David's birthday, another boy I knew whos laid to rest.
David goes without an end.
Atop of the mountain he sang a song and held his hands up high, towards the skies about to pray.
She got his number, he's gonna get it.
She got his number, we're gonna get it.
She got his number, he's gonna get it.
She got his number.
There was man who lacks the love so he married a prince he was a company covered. Said "You pour me a drink, maybe ill stick around."
For the oldest cheif they gave a proper burial, down in the ground he was surround by the scene, a box of earthworms.
The native said "Fatalty is a sin to me now".
She got his number, he's gonna get it.
She got his number, we're gonna get it.
She got his number, he's gonna get it.
She got his number, we're gonna get it , get it, get it.
When the s'caps creepers die, woah oh, we'll have to make new love. Oh the road it's cold, it's the one that we ramble and the mountains wrong with dreams can never fade.
He spoke of perfection, and all the people stood and started to clap, and every smile looked on the same. Oh there was a banner, the children 'gressivly began to beg, pledge alligence while they waved.
She got his number, he's gonna get it.
She got his number, we're gonna get it.
She got his number, he's gonna get it.
She got his number, we're gonna get it , get it, get it.