| mewithoutYou – Fox's Dream of the Log Flume Lyrics | 13 years ago |
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"And so since I’ve often cried/tried? To run them off a cliff like Gadarene swine" refers to the location where the passage in Mark 5:1-13 took place when Jesus expels demons from a possessed man and the demons beg to be cast into a nearby herd of pigs. The pigs then ran off a cliff. The location in some versions is written "Gerasenes" and in others, "Gadarene." |
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| mewithoutYou – Fox's Dream of the Log Flume Lyrics | 13 years ago |
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I've been gnawing at this for 4 days now, "tailor" is the one thing that just doesn't make sense... Provisionally I, practically alive Mistook sign for signified And so since I’ve often cried To run them off a cliff like Gadarene swine Inside my wardrobe seem anchor bent, wondering whether we were somewhat better than or maybe just better able to pretend and what better means to our inevitable end? you know, I don't know if I know though some, with certainty insist no certainty exists! well I'm certain of this, in the past 14 years, there's only one girl I've kissed! In the blistering heat of the Asbury pier we sat quiet as monks on the Ferris wheel looking down at the water down at the sea I asked her, “did it ever occur to you a fantasy where you pushed little kids from the tops of the ride?” Then she shook her head no and I said “oh, neither do I” and with my grandma's ring I went down on one knee and the subsequent catastrophe has since haunted me (like a fiberglass ghost) asking of my inconveniently selective memory Provisionally you mercifully withdrew all the bearing points we thought we knew Days run, days set clock, our calm is shot one common shot we sailed waywardly on singing our midnight archer's songs until well past dawn it's still dark in the deck of our boat haphazardly blown, broken bows our aimless arrow words don't mean a thing to whether I think it's pretty obvious that there's no God and there's definitely a God! I dreamt of the rocks at the Asbury dunes that you jumped from the top of the log flume and they gathered like wolves on the boardwalk below they're addling for answers no wolf could know I charged at the waves With a glass in my hand I was tossed like a ball at the bottle stand and I landed beside your remains on the stones where you cold fingers wrapped around my ankle bones maybe ten feet away was a star thousands of times the size of our sun exploding like the carny balloons you throw darts at we slept until our chest was full of yarn we’d spun from Shetland wool socks from where the Dorset grows sheared and scoured hours before the rooster crows the price of German silver fell Through this huge tailor? down the superstition well |
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