Lyrics of 'The Land is Wild' by Bidiniband
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Brian Fogarty had a gift: he was born with a golden glide.
He could wind for days like a seal on a bloody flow.
He was a lot like you and me, all of that genius shit aside.
Surely Brian would not get burnt by that glittering thing.
He was a star at 21, but a boozer at 17.
Dope eased the pain of what he never had wanted to be.
Do you dream of winter in the summertime?
I dream of all those things you wanted to be.
It gets so cold along the timberline.
The land is wild, but we are wintergreen.
Bryan went to Niagara Falls. As a junior, he had it all:
A bouquet of girls and the records of Bobby Orr.
Kicked up to the NHL, he was playing at Madison Square.
When the coaches would scream, he'd turn his back and play air guitar.
Who has poisoned the prodigal son?
Why does hockey devour its young?
Is it the curse of the cold or the promise of what winter will kill?
Do you dream of winter in the summertime?
I dream of all those things you wanted to be.
It gets so cold along the timberline.
The land is wild, but we are wintergreen.
John Kordic was taken down by ten cops in a motel room.
Juiced, angry, coked-out, he was bound for his grave.
But John Kordic was Fogarty's friend; they kicked around from team to team.
After Kordic's demise, things got bad for the golden blade.
Out of hockey at 31, he drifted here and over there.
One night with his friend, he broke into his buddy's high school.
They were found wasted and out of their minds;
They were naked and shivering, covered in cooking oil.
They were dragged to the local jail.
A sorry sad demise. In the press he was vilified as a stupid, wasted creep.
But he didn't have to be. No, he didn't have to be.
He was doing the best he could with the game so far away.
He went fishing with his old man down in Florida.
His heart exploded while in the boat.
The papers said it was an overdose,
But he did not burn-out, he was just getting clean.
Who has poisoned the prodigal son
Why does hockey devour its young?
At his funeral, only one ex-team mate was there to cry.
Do you dream of winter in the summertime?
I dream of all those things you wanted to be.
It gets so cold along the timberline.
The land is wild, but we are wintergreen.
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