of Montreal - You Do Mutilate? | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• of Montreal
• You Do Mutilate?

Oh, you do mutilate
We're going to celebrate
Our emotional poverty
Giving answers all away

I painted my suitcase red for the reading
Which only ended in conversation break
All I want, genetic telephonic pills
Until the Spanish kids got so ill
I was home schooled with a knife in my shoe

Never seen corpses act so cruel
The self brutality was oh-so-angular
I made him a potion in a newspaper column
Smile, give me a shrug, said I was a fuck up
Now I see your face selling Chinese urine

She came over the fence
With an argument in her head, no empathy
Escape strategy, I understood her
We were trying to share a genuine human moment
Just like the way they do in movies

I'm in a war with this suicidal depression
It's not the star I'm trying to call
I've been standing on this strand far too long, y'all
(Far too long)
Go ahead, go ahead

What you want? Somebody that will slap away your blindness?
What you want? Somebody that will corrupt your heart with too much kindness?
Salute your Busta Rhyme-ness

I got a black fang in Chicago
my superwoman licked
I don’t need a refill of this shit,
I need something that works motherfucker!

I wonder were you flattered
I tried to get you drunk
I know you're collecting disciples
I know you want to be the godmother of soul punk
Some day, some day

There are skyscrapers for you, Jane
Never use your given name
I want to snatch you up for a sequel
Make you feel like godless people

Always knew you were special
Your best friend told me he saw you crying
Everybody wants to crescendo
Take home a memento

We tried to isolate XX infinite pleasure XY
I still was their family secret
Or a symptom of some wilderness hate
Ceremony custodian
Or experimental post-human relationships

In fact, we tried to isolate XX infinite pleasure XY
Ineffectually, now I know I'm not allowed to show the pain
Not allowed to expose the pain

I still was their family secret
Or a symptom of some wilderness hate
Ceremony custodian
Or experimental post-human relationships

In fact, we tried to isolate XX infinite pleasure XY
Ineffectually, now I know I'm not allowed to show the pain
Not allowed to expose the pain

All the white people from my neighborhood are dead
All the black people have turned pink for the winter
Everybody's searching for a cause
A reason to blow themselves up
Could be anything

When will certain people realize
An afterlife is nothing to live for
Nothing to die for, nothing to fight for
If those in this life are not sacred
Then nothing that's a part of it is sacred either

If you think God is more important than your neighbor
You're capable of terrible evil
If you think some prophet's words are more important
Than your brother and your sister
You're ill and you're wrong
You're wrong