Buckfever Underground
Buckfever Underground - Who's Your Memory songtekst
Je score:
easy, they said. I figured notthat harmonica staggered nails through me as I expected from the man with the hunch this drug of choice rips up a festive schedule it's a sip and a traffic fine, a swelter full of fires shelter from the tape I walk along a streetlong scene as the last bits of bird gathers a tree the hunters of the casual glimpse festoon their already remote chairs in the middle of noise I look at my fingers like I lost a word in the dictionary on the 31st of february camera strapped around my neck throughout this familiar name of a foreign land in a local street on the t-shirt in the corner tv takes me where I need to go anyway email me your regrets from england it's spit on a map and you know it frame a face of dark-pupiled desire I ask her about it but she claims innocence I say no I like it she walks away as is this drink I pour these teeth I pout this day I pray for arrives like a cursed scattered thunder in a visit to old people I feel a continent a tremor I've known to be cumbersome turns to pleasure under shreds of full moon this licking underskin, this thing I think is the people I am, the places I fall on i'll be saying volatile things with my frowns we'll sit in the dusk with hints of sun and seasons egrets unhinge from the water, latch into patterns of wings you'll unleash a smile behind a hand low noise will fog around our feet distant dust red like a scream i'll be oblivious of the warmth in your eyes the texture of your talk will pass me by my words will be dull depictions dinful vernacular tapped into a table in a landscape made for meandering in a soundtrack of history breathing will be all the dust i need but it's not what you're saying, I think you're a sprawling endless gleeful blaze a race along familiar stations stations I only know the names of a race I started with the sun in my eyes a blaze I smothered with my hands desire fear in a job want apprehension in flat-rates consider journeys as traveling darkness for the stars in it count your years when you're twenty linger in your holidays spill your days like coffee weeks of ignorance and lager things said to mirrors fingerprints of dreams quietly compete with friends get a girl then a wife get a kid and a life burgle hardware stores buy safety and bliss make contacts and money live like other people tap the future into a keyboard wonder remotely where she is whoever she wants to be strangely long for it moods hidden in a phrase death by stare hearts full of folds phone calls that don't come unposted letters angels unwritten who's your memory? and how is it?