Like a lot of the other comments are saying, I think this mainly about voyeurism. If the song was about his girlfriend, then why would he use the word spy. If you are a spy it means you shouldn't be caught, that is kind of the whole point, and if you are a voyeur, the whole point of the pleasure you get from it, is the fact that the other people don't know you are watching them. See a bit of a connection there?
Mouth the words to deny, deny the symptoms, as 'oh yeah I'm doing fine', as I've found a most endearing psychosis.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. Desperate as I am I just can't strip bare and bleed the only purity I've known.
But I lay with reason. Found logic concieved in a walk with skin. I lay with reason producing these monsters.
Under painted catcalls as in temptation. yeah there's a key to be in, but there's no shade, no shade to blame.
Waterfalls in a cool grey, and the struggle is colored grey this day. The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
Our picture plane is veiled in central neutral grey. Absinthe to slight the pain. This world's this worst case color scheme.
Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch with some unwieldy gauge, absence and light remain.
I lay with reason found logic and reap in a walk with sin. El sueno razon produce monsinios.
When does this dream end? Now I've missed another whole season,
I've missed the fall, clearly its fallen on this land as fields once green are ochre now.
This is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton, roots teased and knotted just below the surface skin of ground.
Stitched between the earth and the sky struggling to hold it down.
Sometimes to realize you have to lose track of sight blurring my vision makes it clear the tiny moving parts make up the whole.
The image is clear, a tower is built of my own pride, I cry in the shade that if offers, the only shelter I've known.
When does this dream end? This is no dream. This is the walking living breathing caricature of a memory.
Shamelessly I cave in to temptation of creation. But still my only thrill is empty sidewalks, silent streets.
The caw of crows fills up the picture plane. This is your picture plain in central neutral grey.
This world's this worst case color scheme. Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch with some unwieldy gauge, absence and light remain.
Life is lowly anonymity, in death a noble pose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for such a soap box to die behind. Life is lowly, lowly anonymity.
In the space of a smile I found sleep. As in sorrow, so shall ye reap, as in reason so shall ye sleep.
Reap the promised end to the struggle. Reap every point on our linear path.
Reap the smiles in time we borrow, every harvest relies on the last.
Reap the promising song of the sparrow, that they learned from the birth of sea.
Silenced by the threnody of the crows. Reap the fallen fruit of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this silence one souls definition of beauty. a backlit smile so temporary.
A facade so rich with evil history. Cast in direct opposition set to overwhelm his moment to shine and sleep-
came out on top of what was borrowed, and found all that beauty to be still.
Every breath as in sorrow, reap the promised end to this path, by every image that we borrow, every harvest depends on the past.
Subdivide in factions our linear forever, we subdivide our waking hours to sleep.
While guilty eyes turn toward a porchlight, enlightenment is losing sight.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. In this low light town when my shift begins the streets reflecting yellow, yellow, yellow in the vacancy that overwhelms the red, red, red, your vehicle the color of expansion.
Open up. the latter just a thought to thrill me knock knock knock the latter just a thought to thrill me.
Red is a four letter word. Four letter invitation. Now my head is locked in the direction of the sun...
Life is lowly anonymity, in death a noble prose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for such a soap box to leave behind.
Life is lowly, lowly anonymity. I know its all been done before, I want to do it again. I want do it again.
Kill the switch.
This night our journey's through the dark.
Kill the switch, a welcome comatose, tonight we journey through the darkness.
As in sorrow, so shall ye weep, as in reason, so shall ye sleep.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. Desperate as I am I just can't strip bare and bleed the only purity I've known.
But I lay with reason. Found logic concieved in a walk with skin. I lay with reason producing these monsters.
Under painted catcalls as in temptation. yeah there's a key to be in, but there's no shade, no shade to blame.
Waterfalls in a cool grey, and the struggle is colored grey this day. The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
Our picture plane is veiled in central neutral grey. Absinthe to slight the pain. This world's this worst case color scheme.
Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch with some unwieldy gauge, absence and light remain.
I lay with reason found logic and reap in a walk with sin. El sueno razon produce monsinios.
When does this dream end? Now I've missed another whole season,
I've missed the fall, clearly its fallen on this land as fields once green are ochre now.
This is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton, roots teased and knotted just below the surface skin of ground.
Stitched between the earth and the sky struggling to hold it down.
Sometimes to realize you have to lose track of sight blurring my vision makes it clear the tiny moving parts make up the whole.
The image is clear, a tower is built of my own pride, I cry in the shade that if offers, the only shelter I've known.
When does this dream end? This is no dream. This is the walking living breathing caricature of a memory.
Shamelessly I cave in to temptation of creation. But still my only thrill is empty sidewalks, silent streets.
The caw of crows fills up the picture plane. This is your picture plain in central neutral grey.
This world's this worst case color scheme. Streaks of oil stain, stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch with some unwieldy gauge, absence and light remain.
Life is lowly anonymity, in death a noble pose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for such a soap box to die behind. Life is lowly, lowly anonymity.
In the space of a smile I found sleep. As in sorrow, so shall ye reap, as in reason so shall ye sleep.
Reap the promised end to the struggle. Reap every point on our linear path.
Reap the smiles in time we borrow, every harvest relies on the last.
Reap the promising song of the sparrow, that they learned from the birth of sea.
Silenced by the threnody of the crows. Reap the fallen fruit of the dogwood tree.
But I witnessed in all this silence one souls definition of beauty. a backlit smile so temporary.
A facade so rich with evil history. Cast in direct opposition set to overwhelm his moment to shine and sleep-
came out on top of what was borrowed, and found all that beauty to be still.
Every breath as in sorrow, reap the promised end to this path, by every image that we borrow, every harvest depends on the past.
Subdivide in factions our linear forever, we subdivide our waking hours to sleep.
While guilty eyes turn toward a porchlight, enlightenment is losing sight.
Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear. In this low light town when my shift begins the streets reflecting yellow, yellow, yellow in the vacancy that overwhelms the red, red, red, your vehicle the color of expansion.
Open up. the latter just a thought to thrill me knock knock knock the latter just a thought to thrill me.
Red is a four letter word. Four letter invitation. Now my head is locked in the direction of the sun...
Life is lowly anonymity, in death a noble prose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives for such a soap box to leave behind.
Life is lowly, lowly anonymity. I know its all been done before, I want to do it again. I want do it again.
Kill the switch.
This night our journey's through the dark.
Kill the switch, a welcome comatose, tonight we journey through the darkness.
As in sorrow, so shall ye weep, as in reason, so shall ye sleep.
Lyrics submitted by Darth_Squirrel
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The song 'Fortnight' by Taylor Swift and Post Malone tells a story about strong feelings, complicated relationships, and secret wishes. It talks about love, betrayal, and wanting someone who doesn't feel the same. The word 'fortnight' shows short-lived happiness and guilty pleasures, leading to sadness. It shows how messy relationships can be and the results of hiding emotions. “I was supposed to be sent away / But they forgot to come and get me,” she kickstarts the song in the first verse with lines suggesting an admission to a hospital for people with mental illnesses. She goes in the verse admitting her lover is the reason why she is like this. In the chorus, she sings about their time in love and reflects on how he has now settled with someone else. “I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary / And I love you, it’s ruining my life,” on the second verse she details her struggles to forget about him and the negative effects of her failure. “Thought of callin’ ya, but you won’t pick up / ‘Nother fortnight lost in America,” Post Malone sings in the outro.
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"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
Dreamwalker
Silent Planet
Silent Planet
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.
in fact, the Spanish sentence says: "el sueño de la razón produce monstruos". monstruos = monsters. and I think that "el sueño de la razon" is not translated into what you said, but: the Reason creates monsters when it dreams. not sure about that anyway (i'm SPanish, but not sure about the meaning of the original sentence)