Texty: Cribs. Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever. Be Safe.
One of those fucking, awful black days
When nothing is pleasing and everything that happens
Is an excuse for anger
An outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armor
These are the days when I hate the world
Hate the rich, hate the happy
Hate the complacent, the TV watchers
Beer drinkers, the satisfied ones
Because I know I can be all of those little hateful things
And then I hate myself for realizing that
There's no preventative, directive or safe approach for living
We each know our own fate
We know from our youth, how to be treated
How we'll be received, how we shall end
These things don't change
You can change your clothes
Change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents
But sooner or later your own self will always catch up
Always it waits in the wings
Ideas swirl but don't stick
They appear but then run off like the rain on the windshield
One of those rainy day car rides, my head implodes
The atmosphere in this car, a mirror of my skull
Wet, damp, windows dripping and misted with cold
Walls of grey, nothing good on the radio, not a thought in my head
I know a place we can go and I'm falling
Love so hard that you wish you were ten
Lets take life and slow it down incredibly slow
Frame by frame
With two minutes that take ten years to live out
Yeah, let's do that
Telephone poles like praying mantis against the sky
Metal arms outstretched
So much land traveled, so little sense made of it
It doesn't mean a thing, all this land laid out behind us
I'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while
I'm disgusted with petty concerns
Parking tickets, breakfast specials
Does someone just have to carry this weight?
Abstract typography, methane covenant
Linear gospel, Nashville sales lady, stocky emissary
Torturous lice, mad Elizabeth
Chemotherapy bullshit
The light within you shines like a diamond mine
Like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a skunk, eating it's own tail
Steam turbine, frog farm
Two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun
Hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blow job
Deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memories Movements, the movie, unfeeling, unreeling, about to begin
I know a place we can go and I'm falling
Love so hard that you wish you were ten
I've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away
I've hear your stairs creak, I can fix my mind on your yes
And your no, I'll film your face today in the sparkling canals
All red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver Dutch reflection
Racing thoughts, racing thoughts, all too real
You're moving so fast now, I can't hold your image
This image I have of your face by the window
Me standing beside you, arm on your shoulder
A catalog of images, flashing glimpses then gone again
Until to the posters soak in me, every clear afternoon now
I'll think of you, up in the air, twisting your heel
Your knees up around me, my face in your hair
You scream so well, your smile so loud, it still rings in my ears
I know a place we can go and I'm falling
Love so hard that you wish you were ten
Imitation, distant, tired of longing, clean white teeth
Stay the course, hold the wheel, steer on to freedom
Open all the boxes, open all the boxes
Open all the boxes, open all the boxes
Times Square Midday, newspaper buildings
News headlines going around, you watch as they go
And hope there's some good ones, those tree shadows in the park
They're all whispering, shake some leaves
Around six p.m., shadows across the cobblestones
Girl in front of bathroom mirror, she slowly and carefully
Paints her face green and mask like
Like my cheese, portrait with green stripe
Long shot through apartment window
A monologue on top but no girl in shot
The light within me shines like a diamond mine
Like an unarmed walrus
Like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a snake eating its own tail
A steam turbine, frog farm
Two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun
Hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blow job
Deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memories Movements, the movie, unreeling, about to begin
Oh, great by me
Yeah? Mine were alright, wasn't my best one but who cares?
That's the spirit
When nothing is pleasing and everything that happens
Is an excuse for anger
An outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armor
These are the days when I hate the world
Hate the rich, hate the happy
Hate the complacent, the TV watchers
Beer drinkers, the satisfied ones
Because I know I can be all of those little hateful things
And then I hate myself for realizing that
There's no preventative, directive or safe approach for living
We each know our own fate
We know from our youth, how to be treated
How we'll be received, how we shall end
These things don't change
You can change your clothes
Change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents
But sooner or later your own self will always catch up
Always it waits in the wings
Ideas swirl but don't stick
They appear but then run off like the rain on the windshield
One of those rainy day car rides, my head implodes
The atmosphere in this car, a mirror of my skull
Wet, damp, windows dripping and misted with cold
Walls of grey, nothing good on the radio, not a thought in my head
I know a place we can go and I'm falling
Love so hard that you wish you were ten
Lets take life and slow it down incredibly slow
Frame by frame
With two minutes that take ten years to live out
Yeah, let's do that
Telephone poles like praying mantis against the sky
Metal arms outstretched
So much land traveled, so little sense made of it
It doesn't mean a thing, all this land laid out behind us
I'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while
I'm disgusted with petty concerns
Parking tickets, breakfast specials
Does someone just have to carry this weight?
Abstract typography, methane covenant
Linear gospel, Nashville sales lady, stocky emissary
Torturous lice, mad Elizabeth
Chemotherapy bullshit
The light within you shines like a diamond mine
Like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a skunk, eating it's own tail
Steam turbine, frog farm
Two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun
Hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blow job
Deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memories Movements, the movie, unfeeling, unreeling, about to begin
I know a place we can go and I'm falling
Love so hard that you wish you were ten
I've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away
I've hear your stairs creak, I can fix my mind on your yes
And your no, I'll film your face today in the sparkling canals
All red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver Dutch reflection
Racing thoughts, racing thoughts, all too real
You're moving so fast now, I can't hold your image
This image I have of your face by the window
Me standing beside you, arm on your shoulder
A catalog of images, flashing glimpses then gone again
Until to the posters soak in me, every clear afternoon now
I'll think of you, up in the air, twisting your heel
Your knees up around me, my face in your hair
You scream so well, your smile so loud, it still rings in my ears
I know a place we can go and I'm falling
Love so hard that you wish you were ten
Imitation, distant, tired of longing, clean white teeth
Stay the course, hold the wheel, steer on to freedom
Open all the boxes, open all the boxes
Open all the boxes, open all the boxes
Times Square Midday, newspaper buildings
News headlines going around, you watch as they go
And hope there's some good ones, those tree shadows in the park
They're all whispering, shake some leaves
Around six p.m., shadows across the cobblestones
Girl in front of bathroom mirror, she slowly and carefully
Paints her face green and mask like
Like my cheese, portrait with green stripe
Long shot through apartment window
A monologue on top but no girl in shot
The light within me shines like a diamond mine
Like an unarmed walrus
Like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a snake eating its own tail
A steam turbine, frog farm
Two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun
Hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blow job
Deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memories Movements, the movie, unreeling, about to begin
Oh, great by me
Yeah? Mine were alright, wasn't my best one but who cares?
That's the spirit
Men's Needs, Women's Needs
Cribs
Ďalší interpreti