| Youth Lagoon – Dropla Lyrics | 12 years ago |
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First, these are how I hear the lyrics. The album comes out tomorrow, so maybe there will be official lyrics then. I'm certain that some of this ("whose scrubs make her arms look too big for her frame") is correct, other parts ("the spirit's fucking a dull deep in your brain") it's mostly just that it sounds approximately right, or closer than what's posted. As I understand, it's a song about watching a loved one die, the little comforts and significant moments and the feelings of helplessness, depression, and anger. You live in a cave, one made of drapes Your hint of perfume from your personal maid Whose scrubs make her arms look too big for her frame For the life of me I can't remember her name I'm fronting to speak, accept myself And most use prayers to keep in good health You'll never die, You'll never die, You'll never die I'm giving a thought, one that's foremade While my physical body's turning in my grave The spirit's fucking a dull deep in your brain But it doesn't know how I reach my arm across the bed and hold your hand The angel of state can't wait to seize all your land, but You'll never die, You'll never die, You'll never die You weren't there When I needed You aloft You pull me under You'll never die, You'll never die, You'll never die |
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| Frog Eyes – Time Destroys its Plan at the Reactionary Table Lyrics | 15 years ago |
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here's what i've got to try to fill in the rest of the song. oh billy come on, oh cause i've heard your hundredth song and though i liked the tale of the millionaires that constructed the fine bolts and put the buildings in the air billy come on, oh come and sing your hundredth song. bring cautionary tales to the reactionary table, ha-ha! granted your songs have been living in this world have been eating in this world have been breathing in this world rain on, rain on, rain on i find it unacceptable i've made concessions to the world to the running of the world to the turning of the world can beneath me burn billy was a girl, but he couldn't tie his curls but the praxis breaks the angry bear the lover in the wood lives on common care billy come on, oh in the echoing morning calm try to find your breath and breathe the air for the troupe of sellers and millionaries billy come on, oh like a population bursts from your songs for the birdies and the babies and the downtown pushers please billy, ha-ha! granted your lungs have been sucking in this world have been breathing in this world have been lying in this world rain on, rain on, rain on i find it unacceptable that you keep singing to the world and keep lying in the world and keep crushing everybody's heads and what everybody (oh) thinks about rain on, rain on, rain on keep ringing on the rail, the wrong, the wrong keep singing to the wrong, to the wrong, to the song singers singing bring it fucking on and on and on this set of millionaires that burst the tale and ripped the hair the final fate of lies, dear the final fare and sail as far as i can tell, this song is about modern industrial society ("millionaires who constructed the fine bolts and put the buildings in the air"), themes also found elsewhere on the golden river, like in "one in six children will flee in boats." the plight of the millionaires may make a good story, and they may have made seemingly great accomplishments, but it serves as a cautionary tale, as it was always destined to fail. no one does or can do anything about it; even people who are passionately opposed lose heart ("the praxis breaks the angry bear"), and some live their lives within the system, not necessarily agreeing with it, but doing nothing to change it ("the lover in the wood lives on common care"). billy goes around glorifying this system and spreading his propaganda, preventing people from thinking on their own. it may be frustrating, but in the end it all has to break down, and at the very least it can serve as a warning. |
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| Swan Lake – Spanish Gold, 2044 Lyrics | 16 years ago |
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These are the lyrics as I hear them (I'm not entirely sure, and there are some sections where it's really tough to understand, but at least they might be closer): Oh we are nothing but what I always leave behind, Withering into the sun, Sighed for the nearest hummingbird on a wire, Eying the cloth of the sun Yes, we are nothing but what I always leave behind, Just collect your poetries and incantations in a bullet for the rhyme, I haven't read them, I will not read them, For they dwell too much on signs, Thus, the desert deserts the eye I left this bullwhip by the nightstand, And Julliard was a thousand miles of gold, Where you gonna run when the clouds break? And the sun peeks his eye with attitude and rises upon the lost, Feeling in the pain of ages rocks That signifies I am that petrifies in rolling shit that we all left behind, And in the prominent white pages rocking the pain of ages, Looking at your graceless depictions of light, Though when there's nothing left to read, There shall be nothing left to write, And that's when I head on bored and lost I left this bullwhip by the nightstand, And Julliard, you were a thousand miles of gold when you said it drops, Are you feeling it, the pain of ages rocks, Feeling in the pain of ages rocks All alone they see Oh, the rain's got to fall |
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