Print

Check that pulseEmbrace this panicAm I dead yetI breath daylight and exhale at night Am I deadMy dearest VeniceI will collapse upon your streetsAnd we can make art of these skinned kneesWe crash our cars like there's no tomorrowAnd who's to say that there isWell, it's a broken and battered ballroomOf twisted metal and falling ceilingsInside, we toss and spinWe dance by accidentThis may not be choreographyBut inertia has got our bodies movingAnd that's gotta count for somethingGotta count for somethingInside, we toss and spinWe dance by accidentThis may not be choreographyBut inertia has got our bodies movingAnd that's gotta count for somethingGotta count for somethingLetras de cancionesSoon these cuts will become scarsAnd leave a face only a surgeon can loveAnd you won't want these worthless eyes They've seen no vineyards basked in sunlightOnly a lonely Chesapeake and two hands soaked in miseryThey said the sea air would help heal these lungsBut spring is beating New England into a bloody summerLike some sort of rapist gripping their victimWhat kind of man lets this happenWhat kind of GodWhat kind of GodYou thiefYou villainYou mother fucking cowardWe don't deserve this, we don't deserve thisAnd you know it, you fucking know itYou thiefYou villainYou mother fucking cowardWe don't deserve this, we don't deserve thisAnd you know it, you fucking know itCheck that pulseNo one winsEmbrace this reliefMaestro, pleaseI could use something sad to walk away to From Letras Mania