Paris, Idaho

by Julian Fulton

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1.
(free) 04:50

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released October 17, 2014

Written and recorded in 24 hours by Julian Fulton
Mastered by Kevin Carafa
Art by Julian Fulton

Recorded at Howie's Hideaway

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Julian Fulton New Jersey

Julian Fulton is an American songwriter and multi-instrumentalist from New Jersey.

Booking: julianfultonbooking@gmail.com

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Track Name: Paris, Idaho
Paris, Idaho. There ain't no where to go. There ain't nothin' to do. I need to escape you. My parole is up in June, and it couldn't come too soon. Just gotta fix my truck and find a way to ditch this cut.

Emily, hurry up before they see and think that we are trying to run. Though we are, for once we're running towards something instead of just away. Away.

Blood, like freckles, upon my clothes while my brothers hit the floors like dominos.

In Paris, Idaho, there ain't no where to go, there ain't nothin' to do. I need to escape you. My parole is up in June, and it couldn't come too soon. Just gotta fix my truck and find a way to ditch this cut. Who's to say if these wounds will heal? I can't even say how the fuck I feel. All I know is you. Paris, Idaho. There ain't no where to go, there ain't nothin' to do. I need to erase you.

It's a quarter past ten. Your grandma should be in bed. Cab's parked 'round back and 12k's in the shed. There's a charter down in Reno running a casino where they'll let us stay for a couple of days.

Warped by cancer of the mind while caged and paraded at the same damn time. Waiting for something existential to align.

Let's bury the past in a field of grass, like the one where we first kissed. I can live with jail, I can live with death, but I can't live without your lips.

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