So, you're lyin' in the snow,
You lie right through you're clothes
You never kiss and tell,
That's never ever
The beast is calling you
Bland, a mix of old incense,
A fleet stripped of weapons,
A stuttering boy is saved
On Easter Sunday
It's now or never
Well, I know we'll meet again
I'd love to hear your voice
We don't fill our songs with noise,
That's never ever
Scar, you know that's what you are
You say the Beatles stopped the war
They might have helped to find a cure,
But it's still not over
Don't go chasin' dreams
No don't you chase your dreams
Your movements must be screened
You can't listen to these things
The Black Angels
No comments:
Post a Comment