This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
congratulations! now put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
no contestation. now put the knife back. put the knife back. knife back.
didn't you read the one about the youth who ate the blue-black-lead?
didn't you read the one about the youth who ate the blue-black-lead-blue washington bullet?
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some.
decline? decline? decline? decline?
make me. make me.
no cognoscenti can stab critique in the back for making me cognizant.
the scissor blades spin another twelve hours, then we're taking your medicine.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some.
you can make believe, enfant terrible.
the secrets out: you wet the bed.
to fertilize your list of names, bouquets, and passing interests.
please. put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
no contestation. now put the knife back. put the knife back. knife back.
didn't you read the one about the youth who ate the blue-black-lead?
didn't you read the one about the youth who ate the blue-black-lead-blue washington bullet?
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some.
decline? decline? decline? decline?
make me. make me.
no cognoscenti can stab critique in the back for making me cognizant.
the scissor blades spin another twelve hours, then we're taking your medicine.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some fields.
years past, stop gap, too little yield.
if this is the cream of the crop, it's time to start burning some.
you can make believe, enfant terrible.
the secrets out: you wet the bed.
to fertilize your list of names, bouquets, and passing interests.
please. put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
put the knife back in the medicine cabinet.
Lyrics submitted by PLANES
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I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
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How would you describe the feeling of being in love? For Ed Sheeran, the word is “Magical.” in HIS three-minute album opener, he makes an attempt to capture the beauty and delicacy of true love with words. He describes the magic of it all over a bright Pop song produced by Aaron Dessner.
Blue
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“Blue” is a song about a love that is persisting in the discomfort of the person experiencing the emotion. Ed Sheeran reflects on love lost, and although he wishes his former partner find happiness, he cannot but admit his feelings are still very much there. He expresses the realization that he might never find another on this stringed instrumental by Aaron Dessner.
Plastic Bag
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
“Plastic Bag” is a song about searching for an escape from personal problems and hoping to find it in the lively atmosphere of a Saturday night party. Ed Sheeran tells the story of his friend and the myriad of troubles he is going through. Unable to find any solutions, this friend seeks a last resort in a party and the vanity that comes with it.
“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.
The lyrics invoke images of the scene in Traffic where the bourgeois children of the D.C. area are all conversating while engrossed in drugs. I think it's somewhat of a social commentary on the decay of popular American culture, and the perpetual downward spiral Western Civilization is experiencing. Or it could be a blanket statement enveloping dilitant, 'aristrocrat', and politician. Dereliction is not confined simply to the impoverished sectors of the American populace, but has always been seen evident in all aspects of society. Even the rich and the noble are susceptible to suicide, immorality, and self-destruction, despite the high pedestal that so defines that particular social bracket. Well, that's my countless countless change, anyway.