suıɥs ǝɥʇ - ʎdǝǝɹɔ sı ƃuıɹɐɔ | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• suıɥs ǝɥʇ
• ʎdǝǝɹɔ sı ƃuıɹɐɔ

I think I'll go home and mull this over
Before I cram it down my throat.
At long last it's crashed, its colossal mass
Has broken up into bits in my moat.

Lift the mattress off the floor.
Walk the cramps off,
Go meander in the cold.
Hail to your dark skin
Hiding the fact you're dead again,
Undeneath the power lines seeking shade.
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason.

It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should have fold.
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped,
And the whole mess of roads we're now on.

Hold your glass up, hold it in,
Never betray the way you've always known it is.
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow.

This is way beyond
My remote concern of being condescending.

All these squawking birds won't quit.
Building nothing, laying bricks.

Hold your glass up, hold it in,
Never betray the way you've always known it is.
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow.

This is way beyond
My remote concern of being condescending.

All these squawking birds won't quit.
Building nothing, laying bricks.

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