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I hope you enjoy the ambiance. You can leave your wings at the door. There's no need to fly while you're here, and if you dare and try I'll nail your feet to the floor because this tea was brewed for two: one for me, and one for you. It's been too long and now I'm through waiting for you.
This is my time to write pretty words. This is my day. The plague of one is cured. Bet you a kiss that you're growing fur. Wish it away. One day we all wish it away. The way we were, wish it away.
The only cure. If love turns cold, I'll call it ice cream and fake a happy tune. You've got your rounds now, but dear your children are planting maple seeds. I'm sticky sweetened. I'm gooey hopeful. You're dripping ten miles gone. I watched our love freeze; it's only ice cream. A pocket's change could get you more. I'm left hungry. Could one death kill my faith?
Locust has rolled over, watch it fly. I watch my locust eclipse the sky. With melting wing watch that locust fry, and smiling I'll watch that locust die.
Waiting for you...
I can't figure out what it is, but she's slipping from my grip. I can't figure out what it is, but she's squirming like an infant. She can't figure out what it is, she said "You don't make me feel important." I can't figure out what it is, I ask "what's it like to feel important?" I can't figure out what it is...
This is my time to write pretty words. This is my day. The plague of one is cured. Bet you a kiss that you're growing fur. Wish it away. One day we all wish it away. The way we were, wish it away.
The only cure. If love turns cold, I'll call it ice cream and fake a happy tune. You've got your rounds now, but dear your children are planting maple seeds. I'm sticky sweetened. I'm gooey hopeful. You're dripping ten miles gone. I watched our love freeze; it's only ice cream. A pocket's change could get you more. I'm left hungry. Could one death kill my faith?
Locust has rolled over, watch it fly. I watch my locust eclipse the sky. With melting wing watch that locust fry, and smiling I'll watch that locust die.
Waiting for you...
I can't figure out what it is, but she's slipping from my grip. I can't figure out what it is, but she's squirming like an infant. She can't figure out what it is, she said "You don't make me feel important." I can't figure out what it is, I ask "what's it like to feel important?" I can't figure out what it is...
Song Info
Submitted by
ruben On Jun 22, 2003
More The Postman Syndrome
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this song (well, this band in general) pulls at something really deep in my heart. i can't explain the incredible feeling of identification i get listening to the postman syndrome; it's like listening to one perfect instrument that can produce the spectrum of sound that it normally takes an assortment of instruments to make.
to me, this song is about faking optimism, trying to convince yourself that something you've spent so much time on isn't dying. it speaks of trying to make a lover who doesn't want to stay stick around. it talks of faking the best out of a harsh situation ("if love turns cold, i'll call it ice cream"), and how it's so easily replaceable, but would be just as unfulfilling.
the last verse, "I ask, 'what's it like to feel important?'" implies that the speaker is coming to the realization that things haven't <i>become</i> bad, but they've pretty much <i>been</i> bad from the start. a lost cause.
(don't mind me, i'm in a ton of literature classes, and lyrics are, in most cases, infinitely more interesting than poetry and old, dusty fiction)
The Postman Syndrome writes some incredible lyrics, bar none... maybe even better than Tool in some ways.
They're amazingly talented, and seem like really nice guys as well.