One of those fucking awful black days When nothing is pleasing and everything that happens Is an excuse for anger An outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armour
These are the days when I hate the world Hate the rich, hate the happy Hate the complacent, the TV watchers Beer drinkers, the satisfied ones
Because I know I can be all of those little hateful things And then I hate myself for realizing that There's no preventative, directive or safe approach for living We each know our own fate
We know from our youth how to be treated How we'll be received, how we shall end These things don't change
You can change your clothes Change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents But sooner or later your own self will always catch up Always it waits in the wings
Ideas swirl but don't stick They appear but then run off like rain on the windshield
One of those rainy day car rides, my head implodes The atmosphere in this car, a mirror of my skull Wet, damp, windows dripping and misted with cold Walls of grey, nothing good on the radio, not a thought in my head
I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that You'll wish you were dead
Let's take life and slow it down incredibly slow Frame by frame With two minutes that take ten years to live out Yeah, let's do that
Telephone poles like praying mantis against the sky Metal arms outstretched So much land travelled, so little sense made of it It doesn't mean a thing, all this land laid out behind us
I'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while I'm disgusted with petty concerns Parking tickets, breakfast specials Does someone just have to carry this weight?
Abstract typography, methane covenant Linear gospel, Nashville sales lady, stocky emissary Torturous lice, mad Elizabeth Chemotherapy bullshit
I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that You'll wish you were dead
The light within you shines like a diamond mine Like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway Like a snake eating its own tail A steam turbine, frog pond
Two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun Hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blowjob Deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memory Movements, the movie unpeeling, unreeling, about to begin
I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that You'll wish you were dead
I've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away I've hear your stairs creak, I can fix my mind on your yes And your no, I'll film your face today in the sparkling canals All red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver Dutch reflection
Racing thoughts, racing thoughts, all too real You're moving so fast now, I can't hold your image This image I have of your face by the window Me standing beside you, arm on your shoulder A catalogue of images, flashing glimpses, then gone again
I'm tethered to this post you've sunk in me And every clear afternoon now I'll think of you, up in the air Twisting your heel, your knees up around me, my face in your hair You scream so well, your smile so loud, it still rings in my ears
I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that You'll wish you were dead
Inhibition, distant, tired of longing Clean my teeth, stay the course Hold the wheel, steer on to freedom Open all the boxes, open all the boxes Open all the boxes, open all the boxes
Times Square midday, newspaper buildings, news headlines going around You watch as they go and hope for some good ones Those tree shadows in the park they're all whispering, chasing leaves
Around six PM, shadows across the cobblestones Girl in front of bathroom mirror As she slowly and carefully and paints her face green, mask-like Like Matisse, "Portrait with Green Stripe"
Long shot through apartment window A monologue on top but no girl in shot
The light within me shines like a diamond mine Like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway Like a snake eating its own tail A steam turbine, frog pond
Two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun Hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blowjob Deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memory Movements, the movie unreeling, about to begin
That was great by me Yeah? Mine were alright. Wasn't my best one but who cares? That's the spiritTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
