The Little Hands of Asphalt - Things that eventually die | Текст песни

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• The Little Hands of Asphalt
• Things that eventually die

In my palm there’s a smudge of the words that define my will
And the three hundred questions that raises, they’re hard to kill
So I’ll let subtlety burst its pipes
‘Cause now cynicism seems right
And… Every lung with smoggy friendship is never too inflamed again
Past the tongue in the moving lips
The secrets in a lion’s den

And there’re these things that I know that I never had wished I did
They weigh more than the books that I carry around but never read
Hoping I’ll get through them someday
And forget the disarray
Of hopes and dreams in constant motion
And tunnels with confusing lights
And in the corner of some lurking ocean they possibly unveil as right

‘Cause there are nine million bicycles and twenty million mindless souls
They will drink all the piss that just happens to hit their bowls
And I’ll cater them at will
‘Cause what piracy really kills
Is the viscous beasts that made a big catch and even bigger words
But any day now the plane will crash
And leave the sky to the birds

Well after two more barks I’m back to dubious and off to work
So this song here goes out to every lonesome record store clerk
Free yourselves from Rob Bourdon’s chains, though his question still remains
But either way we were miserable kids so the irony is clear
Our high horses were one trick ponies
And I haven’t laughed for years

So now I’m looking through the classifieds, I need a different set of skills
So I can stop writing stories and start writing someone bills
And then finally wave goodbye
To the things that eventually die
The peaceful look on perfect strangers faces as I pass them by
Or the bands we named after mountain ranges, or maybe it was books we liked

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