Texty:
Rebuke

I'm made of bones of the branches the boughs and the brow-beating light While my feet are the trunks and my head is the canopy high And my fingers extend

Preklad: Decemberists. Kráľovná je výčitka / The Crossing.

I'm made of bones of the branches, the boughs, and the brow-beating light While my feet are the trunks and my head is the canopy high And my fingers

That empty seat, that vacant chair makes me doubt anyone will ever care as much as me, as much as us about this proverbial rusting bus an elegy to all

In the center of the storm, you've found your haven like a million times before, you act the craven "I am not alone", you justify it "If not for me,

I saturate my blood with nicotine, responding to the message on the screen trying not to think about the fun I'm not having replace my blood with gasoline

And the people bowed their heads to the force that would destroy them all and they lined up in the streets watching the comet fall yeah, they had been

There's a bar on the corner people are gathered there to drink their beer there's a new world order and there's new air in our atmosphere tn the briefest

What you call liberation I call oppression what you call terrorism I call hitting from below what you call information I call propaganda what you call