Yeah, so my skull's just a coffin For the corpse of my brain Wriggling contents rattled awake By the driving rain Get the night watch on duty Come on lads - man the eyes Light this stricken beacon For some sign of the skies
WITCH!
Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to!
Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens Raise a glass to the face of the past He who Dares, well he doesn't always win Crescendo or something to usher the past in
All a'jolt to the march half thought; sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught
All a'limbs a'roll, a'howl roll these bones down, funerary style
All who wonder. All a'twitch. Ride the dreaded cliché switch
We belong dead
Yeah, so my skull's just a coffin For the corpse of my brain Wriggling contents rattled awake By the driving rain Get the night watch on duty Come on lads - man the eyes Light this stricken beacon For some sign of the skies
Gather round, gather round, Gasp the dust from my bones, snort your derision, dance the jitter Dance encrusted with bugs Listening in to your silence, Distorting dial-tone White noise waiting list Rolling these bones against the door To halt the grating whistling of the wind
Grating whistling of the windTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
