| Song | Jamaica And The Wishing Shrine |
| Artist | Agent Ribbons |
| Album | Let Them Talk |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I haven’t seen you since | |
| December It was a long long drive | |
| Out in the middle of the desert | |
| I wondered if | |
| I might cry | |
| When we arrived it was as if there had been no time | |
| Since the day that you moved out from down the hall | |
| It was good to see your books and smell your perfume | |
| It was good to see your pictures on the walls | |
| You said you had to take me somewhere | |
| And we went out into the night | |
| A shrine devoted to a sinner | |
| Illuminated by candle light | |
| We wrote all of our dreams on scraps of paper | |
| And put them in a wall of ancient play | |
| The wishing shrine is all that we are made of | |
| You held my hand until the night had turned to day |
| I haven' t seen you since | |
| December It was a long long drive | |
| Out in the middle of the desert | |
| I wondered if | |
| I might cry | |
| When we arrived it was as if there had been no time | |
| Since the day that you moved out from down the hall | |
| It was good to see your books and smell your perfume | |
| It was good to see your pictures on the walls | |
| You said you had to take me somewhere | |
| And we went out into the night | |
| A shrine devoted to a sinner | |
| Illuminated by candle light | |
| We wrote all of our dreams on scraps of paper | |
| And put them in a wall of ancient play | |
| The wishing shrine is all that we are made of | |
| You held my hand until the night had turned to day |
| I haven' t seen you since | |
| December It was a long long drive | |
| Out in the middle of the desert | |
| I wondered if | |
| I might cry | |
| When we arrived it was as if there had been no time | |
| Since the day that you moved out from down the hall | |
| It was good to see your books and smell your perfume | |
| It was good to see your pictures on the walls | |
| You said you had to take me somewhere | |
| And we went out into the night | |
| A shrine devoted to a sinner | |
| Illuminated by candle light | |
| We wrote all of our dreams on scraps of paper | |
| And put them in a wall of ancient play | |
| The wishing shrine is all that we are made of | |
| You held my hand until the night had turned to day |