Solé (Tonya Michelle Johnston)

Solé (Tonya Michelle Johnston) - Teepee On The Highway Blues songtekst

Je score:

a good portion of devotion on sale 

to the stale-skinned rummage-happy 

everyday troop

got my bells on: it keeps my ears ringing 

and peers watching

wishing i'd stop 

quietly judging with my mouth open 

and hands on the switch

so when they stop the earth

who's ass will your head end up in?

it's most likely you'll never get 

the perfect tip 

or learn to take hints

i want a new television 

'cause my books are getting old

and i'd watch the "news and advertisements" 

and find a new way to change my life



guaranteed of course

because the names we trust 

have, and will always be, the only answer

girls like to hold hands

i had my life squeezed out once or twice

so let's call it even...and well-balanced

like a crock of shit 

or a hell of a life 

on a walking mess to the upscale

where they sniff dreams off fingernails 

and rate life on a scale of personal gain

mapping out the universe: 

a wife and kids with no name

and a big house atop a hill 

that blocks out the sun for those 

who can't afford it

throw some crumbs to the starving idealists

do they not bleed the same? are they not men?



we got bigger desks now

and all my ideas are carefully hidden 

on crumpled paper at my feet

starving for attention 

when the demon barely blinks out of this life

now i'm on the north shore

laughing at my dot com buddies who got laid off

who needs references anyway? 

i've been working for god 

in all the wrong social circles



i could have been a programmer

but this much i still am:

not a man or a teacher

just a student in denial

with more to give then they could possibly take

when there's nothing left to disagree with

i'll drop off the face of the planet 

and give mtv-land back to its rightful owners...



you can have it



there's a replica of comfort 

and a false sense of stability

the difference between a blow-up doll 

floating in a bathtub with slit wrists

and a lost friend 

only calling to borrow money

all these days are beneath you

there are floors to slip 

and break your neck on

and bottles of vodka you can't see through

parasite to parasite

what's eating me is eating you

the absolute hardest thing about being here

is how you wish you could fast-forward 

the way it drags

now they got drugs and computers 

to do that for you

until they can be you, and replace you

and convince you that they love you

never meant to harm anything so innocent 

that you can't help but hope 

it gets killed crossing in traffic



i promised myself 

i wouldn't kill anything on this song

but you leave me no choice

'cause i can't complain

and can't believe i'm still 

waiting for people, waiting for people

who overextend themselves by saying "hello"

i underestimated greediness 

and how loneliness

will drive entire blocks to pigpile on television sets

all the clap-on distractions 

and fade-away inspirations

are the reason i can barely 

hold a one-sided conversation

or sit still without knees shaking

i pull the hair out of my head 

and wait for bats to fill the room

but all i get is a receding hairline 

and another shit-eating grin

it's sad to leave anyone...
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Taal: Engels

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