Nothing makes my heart so wild as being
In possession of a potent night
Racing down the stairs in a nude descension
Shedding and discarding my hide
But the bold strokes crack so quickly
And it's often that I wonder why
Dripping at the slow-motion rate of surrender
Hanging to my bones as they dry
How can I want something more than a new hell in which to fry
When I see in mostly black and white?
There's a sinful sort of side of being
So contained, a bit like being lost
Stumbling through the background like a small town loner
Folded and monk-like, at least that's what I've always said
How does writing letters from the lonely margins feel
When there is no hair on my head?
Is the solitude I seek a trap where I've been blindly led?
Tell me, where then do I go instead?
When atonement comes in distant waves
I might wait until the next to break
Choking through forgiveness at a sunfly prompter
Staring through the back of my face
Its a vulgar, hidden part of being tethered to the world right now;
Nothing in my eyes but a scowl
Do I bother to define myself beyond what they allow?
Have I already forgotten how?
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:32.47]Nothing makes my heart so wild as being
[00:35.24]In possession of a potent night
[00:38.57]Racing down the stairs in a nude descension
[00:41.50]Shedding and discarding my hide
[00:43.56]But the bold strokes crack so quickly
[00:46.19]And it's often that I wonder why
[00:49.71]Dripping at the slow-motion rate of surrender
[00:52.55]Hanging to my bones as they dry
[00:54.60]How can I want something more than a new hell in which to fry
[01:00.10]When I see in mostly black and white?
[01:11.03]There's a sinful sort of side of being
[01:13.84]So contained, a bit like being lost
[01:17.14]Stumbling through the background like a small town loner
[01:24.17]Folded and monk-like, at least that's what I've always said
[01:28.35]How does writing letters from the lonely margins feel
[01:31.07]When there is no hair on my head?
[01:33.18]Is the solitude I seek a trap where I've been blindly led?
[01:38.75]Tell me, where then do I go instead?
[01:44.94]
[02:17.16]When atonement comes in distant waves
[02:19.85]I might wait until the next to break
[02:23.25]Choking through forgiveness at a sunfly prompter
[02:26.13]Staring through the back of my face
[02:28.11]Its a vulgar, hidden part of being tethered to the world right now;
[02:37.00]Nothing in my eyes but a scowl
[02:39.01]Do I bother to define myself beyond what they allow?
[02:44.54]Have I already forgotten how?
Nothing makes my heart so wild as being
In possession of a potent night
Racing down the stairs in a nude descension
Shedding and discarding my hide
But the bold strokes crack so quickly
And it's often that I wonder why
Dripping at the slow-motion rate of surrender
Hanging to my bones as they dry
How can I want something more than a new hell in which to fry
When I see in mostly black and white?
There's a sinful sort of side of being
So contained, a bit like being lost
Stumbling through the background like a small town loner
Folded and monk-like, at least that's what I've always said
How does writing letters from the lonely margins feel
When there is no hair on my head?
Is the solitude I seek a trap where I've been blindly led?
Tell me, where then do I go instead?
When atonement comes in distant waves
I might wait until the next to break
Choking through forgiveness at a sunfly prompter
Staring through the back of my face
Its a vulgar, hidden part of being tethered to the world right now;
Nothing in my eyes but a scowl
Do I bother to define myself beyond what they allow?
Have I already forgotten how?
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:32.47]Nothing makes my heart so wild as being
[00:35.24]In possession of a potent night
[00:38.57]Racing down the stairs in a nude descension
[00:41.50]Shedding and discarding my hide
[00:43.56]But the bold strokes crack so quickly
[00:46.19]And it's often that I wonder why
[00:49.71]Dripping at the slow-motion rate of surrender
[00:52.55]Hanging to my bones as they dry
[00:54.60]How can I want something more than a new hell in which to fry
[01:00.10]When I see in mostly black and white?
[01:11.03]There's a sinful sort of side of being
[01:13.84]So contained, a bit like being lost
[01:17.14]Stumbling through the background like a small town loner
[01:24.17]Folded and monk-like, at least that's what I've always said
[01:28.35]How does writing letters from the lonely margins feel
[01:31.07]When there is no hair on my head?
[01:33.18]Is the solitude I seek a trap where I've been blindly led?
[01:38.75]Tell me, where then do I go instead?
[01:44.94]
[02:17.16]When atonement comes in distant waves
[02:19.85]I might wait until the next to break
[02:23.25]Choking through forgiveness at a sunfly prompter
[02:26.13]Staring through the back of my face
[02:28.11]Its a vulgar, hidden part of being tethered to the world right now;
[02:37.00]Nothing in my eyes but a scowl
[02:39.01]Do I bother to define myself beyond what they allow?
[02:44.54]Have I already forgotten how?
Violence is the fruit of unreached understanding
That flower from the lips of scoundrels
It is a forest so dense and rooted in our past
It tempts us t...
Your glance sings of lyrics ‘cite from memory
Its sad our goodbyes sound nostalgic
Your chords swung me from an ol holler tree
I'm living like a vagab...
You keep saying you've got something for me
Something you call love, but confess
That you've been messing where you shouldn't have been messing
And no...
I'm wide awake
Mind so woke 'cause my brain never pushed the brakes
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Movin' and groovin' and I ain't ever losin' the pace...
Where I'm from, well no one lived there
I look back now, nothing's changed
Where I'm from now, still no one lives there
Look back again and lock the d...
There are no more summer lifeguard jobs.
There are no more art museums to guard.
The lab is out of white lab coats,
But there are still careers in com...
Seldom have I ever questioned the end
Still I grow frost when I'm reminded
Which hands get to turn the final page
In whose throat belongs the swan son...
Like a red state's
Baptist fervor.
Like a small town's unsolved murder.
Some secrets are just best resting in the tombs of buried thought-slums.
As fo...
Framed plant portrait
On the wall
Christmas commercial
How many times
Somebody shouted
"last call"
And I knew he means it
At least this night
Stained ...