The party's over. A cd's skipping. It's the same hook repeating. Grows more grating with each passing second.... . And the walls contain a resonation, laughter, and conversation..
Mind game after mind game for the head-trip after all the shit. One step in advancement, numb to everything. Searching for the result, striving for resolution, offering no solution just more dogma for confusion. Fill you full of promise with your back against the wall; interpret a hopeless freedom where chains liberate the soul. Answers to silent questions from the idols of the dark. First present solution then we'll see about tearing down the walls....
The party's over. A CD skipping. It's the same hook repeating. Grows more grating with each passing second.... . And the walls contain a resonation, laughter, and conversation..
Everything I know about love. I learned from you, from you. And everything I know about pain. I learned from you, you. . You were my only, you were my first.
I want to be on stage. Want to sing my heart out. For an adoring crowd who buys my EP. I want to hear the applause. Feel the congratulations shower over me.
I tend to fall in love. With only just the image of. The perfect, quintessential love ideal. The fiction that I reproduce. Is something that I'll hold you to.
This one's an ode. To the city that I told you about. Just take a plane or ship. To the southernmost tip of Africa. . Buy hats for the heat. From the side of the street or pavement.
Look to window and reach the eyes that stare to the sky. The snow falls so softly.... It buries the garden. All prepared for the winter, thou have sowed your seeds.
We ran across frozen mines. Sweeping through gates of dawn. As the sun was gleaming blue. Gaping through me and you.
Hearses crawl from grey haze. Timeless reign,. Shadowed by face of pain. As we wait behind our doors. For Autumns final blow to come. End of all days.
The wave hits the beach,. writing words on the sand -. to the academic man,. this could be the answer..... In fact, it's no more than a hunch;. still we try to eat it....
Here at the glass - all the usual problems,. All the habitual farce.. You ask, in uncertain voice, what you should do. As if there were a choice. . But to carry on miming the song.
I remember what it felt like at seventeen,. I was a cat, a snake, a lizard, a mouse;. still got an interest in the limousine. and a spouse and a brat,.