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Your shoes are outlines in salt, permanent upon my kitchen floor from when you last took shelter from the storm. Things were better then, we were better friends, I felt so real again. It's times like this I miss L.A., the weather is better and you and I would not have met. You put me out like a last cigarette, said 'Flesh and blood can only go so far.' I could have held on like a grudge, I could have carried us both home, but flesh and blood can only go so far. We've been lied to our whole lives, and we haven't told the truth in years, like "I haven't met a bridge I couldn't burn!" But I'm out here frozen with the match; we're in the middle of the span. And if this blizzard blows us down we will fall forever -- together we cannot set foot on solid ground. It's times like this I miss L.A., the weather is better and you and I would not have met. You put me out like a last cigarette, said 'Flesh and blood can only go so far.' I could have held on like a grudge, I could have carried us both home, but flesh and blood can only go so far. You put me out like a last cigarette, said 'Flesh and blood can only go so far.' I could have held on like a grudge, I could have carried us both home, but flesh and blood can only go so far.
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I will miss her like a sinking sun, when I don't think I will ever see another one setting on her, on that hill, made the silhouette of grace, a speck on some horizon so far away -- back then she always came back to me. Back then she always came back to me. See the scars crawling up her thighs, the words running through her mind, the stories that they tell could make you understand wanting to die. But every time she smiles it's like she's smiling for the first time. It says 'Everything is gonna be fine.'
No more bullets for Maisie and I think this time it's gonna be all right. It's not the end of the line.
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3. |
Collar City Anthem
07:46
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She's looking for a light that she's blind to, and this dead city wants a dead king but it don't know who to kill. She's still keeping score on her skin, she's second best. She says that she feels like she's trapped in a great flood. It's nothing personal if she drifts away. And she's waiting for the next messiah, he should be cold, he should be righteous. He should be nothing like they said. She's praying that he'll turn this water not to wine, but to gasoline, and cut the hot end of his cigar into the drink. There's so many bodies lain beneath these streets, blood pools and it seeps and runs through sewers just like veins. Every cobblestone is carved with a name and a date, and each one's faded now -- because this city is postponing its fate. Well, all the voices have been gone for so long, when carried back on the wind was an echo of a thousand sour notes and each one told the truth: I am not god, so my love cannot save you. I'm the one who fell in love with the end of an era, swore I'd never let it pass. I'm the one who tried to save us from ourselves but it's clear now I have failed. And I hope they don't think we're to blame for the way things worked out.
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I will pretend to hear your heartbeat. I will take you on the town. In the morning when the sun shines down we will wipe the sparks from our eyes. I can't forgive the way you acted -- there's more to life than just getting by. We had a real depth to our communication in time capsules and little landmines beneath our feet. You can pretend that I'm still smiling if that lie could get you on your feet. If you keep it up long enough, maybe one day you could feel something. But you're still hiding from the guilt. Maybe I was just the medication for a little while.
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I need more legs to stand on; I've been tearing limb from limb. I reached my hand into the water and it pulled me right in. There is no lady of the Lake. No good or evil, small or great. No confusion of intention. There is just one shade of gray. We are all trapped in the middle, we're all circling the drain. Now it's 2:00am, I've got the shakes again. I'd be asleep except for all this fucked up chemistry. Something about broken bonds, something about life, something about the way things could have been. It's an awful preservation, formaldehyde between the sheets. Bed posts sunk into the peat -- the Lady of the Mire has come for me. And, oh! Please caress my head. You can take away the pain. They'll come and find me in an age, when I can't feel the current around me anymore. I will be destitute. It's an awful preservation, these scars will never fade. I have let go of the hands of fate. I have let go of hands of fate. I have let go of the things I hate. I have let go of the hands of fate. I have let go of everything. Everything. Now it's 2:00am, I've got the shakes again. I'd be asleep except for all this fucked up chemistry. Something about broken bonds, something about life, something about the way things should have been.
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fel recommends:
I'll own up; this is actually just my other band. Except it's defunct or on hiatus or something. We haven't really talked about the status. But it is hardcore punk! Yeah! WWHRD?
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