I'm lost, I'm afraid A frayed rope tying down a leaky boat To the roof of a car on the road in the dark And it's snowing If I'm more, then it means less
Превод: Веакертханс,. Реконструкција сајта.
I want to call a request through heating vents, And hear them answered with a whispered no, To crack the code of muscles slack and tense, Let every second
February always finds you folding local papers open to the faces "passed away," to wonder what they're holding in those hands we're never shown. The
Doctors played your dosage like a card trick. Scrabbled down the hallways yelling Yahtzee. I brought books on Hopper, and the Artic, something called
late afternoon another day is nearly done a darker grey is breaking through a lighter one a thousand sharpened elbows in the underground that hollow
Just one more drink and then I should be on my way home I'm not entirely sure what your talking about I've had a really nice time but my dogs need to
Well I'm lost, I'm afraid, Rope tied down to a leaky boat, To the roof of a car on a road in the dark and it's snowing. If I'm more, Then it means less
Why don?t you ever want to play? I?m tired of this piece of string You sleep as much as I do now and you Don?t eat much of anything I don?t know who
the sirens woke me up again i know they're coming for me someday just a matter of when count to 25 and yawn touch the clock and turn my back against
How I don't know how to sing, I can barely play this thing, But you never seem to mind, And you tell me to fuck off, When I need somebody to, How you
So you watch the sunrise sinking And she's talking in her sleep A dream of how alone she was Tomorrow when you keep All those promises to someone In
The mirrors and the unacknowledged nods. Dial tones and license plates. The words you didn't choose. Everything the day's too small to hold spills on
So you don't get to be a saint. Martyrs never last this long. Guess I'll never be the one to defeat desire in this song. Here's a marker, here's my naked
Let the waitress put the chairs up, let the glasses that you broke, form a picture of our leader with a halo made of smoke. Let the golden oldies station
When the bus shelter windows and napkin dispensers suprise, with distorted reflections it's never the someone you're hoping to recognize, and the rent
