Dark, Dark, Dark - Gregory Alan Isakov

Maria’s on the hill

She was all «side of her eyes»

A five-dollar wine as a blanket inside

Lay up the pages on a traveling bed

Watch the Blood of Christ Mountains, oh they all turn red

Howl at the half moon, radio queen

She’s all smoke, she’s all nicotine

The songs in my pocket just crumble apart

Won’t you sing me something for the dark?

Maria’s got wings, she’s got legs for the sea

A captain’s coat and a note for me

Wake up Marie, 'fore the season turns

Set your dash for the coast, watch the Sangres burn

Howl at the half moon, radio queen

She’s all smoke, she’s all nicotine

The songs in my pocket just crumble apart

Won’t you sing me something for the dark, dark, dark?

Oooh, oooh

Oooh, oooh

Won’t you sing me something for the dark, dark, dark?

Won’t you sing me something for the dark, dark, dark?

Won’t you sing me something for the dark, dark, dark?

Won’t you sing me something for the dark?

Won’t you sing me something for the dark, dark, dark?