@[Diderik:33655] "Your a holiday!" Was a popular term used in the 50s/60s to compliment someone on their all around. For example, not only are they beautiful, but they are fun and kind too ... just an all around "holiday".
I think your first comment is closer to being accurate. The singer/song writers state "Millions of eyes can see, yet why am i so blind!? When the someone else is me, its unkind its unkind". I believe hes referring to the girl toying with him and using him. He wants something deeper with her, thats why he allows himself to be as a puppet (even though for her fun and games) as long as it makes her happy. But he knows deep down that she doesnt really want to be serious with him and thats what makes him.
Something in the way these boys walk down the street
Is blocking out my vision of the sun
Something in the way everything here looks the same
Is blocking out my vision of the sun
The sameness is killing me
It tells me something's wrong
Tells me all I see is vision of none
Merging again into this one this one this one
This one is vision of none
Kissing clones disowns disowns your personality
Kissing clones is fake substitute authenticity
Kissing clones isn't any satisfaction
Kissing clones is voluntary ghettoization
Kissing clones is no soul soul soul
Kissing clones is no soul soul soul
Safety in numbers is no solution
If your own liberation becomes a prison
Clones have dead beats while we have wild rhythms
Clones' time is up and we carry the coffin
We love what's alive
We love what's in motion
We love the sense of touch but their fingertips are frozen
So quick quick, throw away those mannerisms
Quick quick, knock and it will be opened
Quick quick, ask and it will be given
Quick quick, seek and you will find
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost his life tonight
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost consciousness tonight
Oh, oh, blood runs like rivers down this street tonight
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost consciousness tonight
All of the boys on 17th Street, they only know one thing
And all of the boys on 17th Street, they all wear the same thing
They used to talk about visibility but they don't see a thing
And they speak it in the same voice but they don;t say anything
Oh, oh, give up give up those silent signs
Oh, oh, so we cannot break this heart, don't break this heart
Open up your fucking mind and you can fly
Silence is still death and clone fashion and clone motion are still silent signs
Because you know we have the handle
And you know they have the blade
So, boys and girls, its time to decide decide decide
Is blocking out my vision of the sun
Something in the way everything here looks the same
Is blocking out my vision of the sun
The sameness is killing me
It tells me something's wrong
Tells me all I see is vision of none
Merging again into this one this one this one
This one is vision of none
Kissing clones disowns disowns your personality
Kissing clones is fake substitute authenticity
Kissing clones isn't any satisfaction
Kissing clones is voluntary ghettoization
Kissing clones is no soul soul soul
Kissing clones is no soul soul soul
Safety in numbers is no solution
If your own liberation becomes a prison
Clones have dead beats while we have wild rhythms
Clones' time is up and we carry the coffin
We love what's alive
We love what's in motion
We love the sense of touch but their fingertips are frozen
So quick quick, throw away those mannerisms
Quick quick, knock and it will be opened
Quick quick, ask and it will be given
Quick quick, seek and you will find
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost his life tonight
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost consciousness tonight
Oh, oh, blood runs like rivers down this street tonight
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost consciousness tonight
All of the boys on 17th Street, they only know one thing
And all of the boys on 17th Street, they all wear the same thing
They used to talk about visibility but they don't see a thing
And they speak it in the same voice but they don;t say anything
Oh, oh, give up give up those silent signs
Oh, oh, so we cannot break this heart, don't break this heart
Open up your fucking mind and you can fly
Silence is still death and clone fashion and clone motion are still silent signs
Because you know we have the handle
And you know they have the blade
So, boys and girls, its time to decide decide decide
Lyrics submitted by BigChillRob
False Positive Lyrics as written by
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
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This is the lyrics to "Drums" not "False Positive"
Nope, this is definitely False Positive.
All I know is I had a nightmare to this song but I woke up feeling really happy.
Probably the best song on Coughs.
Something in the way these boys walk down the street Is blocking out my vision of the sun Something in the way everything here looks the same Is blocking out my vision of the sun The sameness is killing me It tells me something's wrong Tells me all I see is vision of none Merging again into this one this one this one This one is vision of none
Kissing clones disowns disowns your personality Kissing clones is fake substitute authenticity Kissing clones isn't any satisfaction Kissing clones is volunary ghettoization Kissing clones is no soul soul soul Kissing clones is no soul soul soul Safety in numbers is no solution If your own liberation becomes a prison Clones have dead beats while we have wild rhythms Clones' time is up and we carry the coffin We love what's alive We love what's in motion We love the sense of touch but their fingertips are frozen So quick quick, throw away those mannerisms Quick quick, knock and it will be opened Quick quick, ask and it will be given Quick quick, seek and you will find
Oh, oh, someone on this street lost his life tonight Oh, oh, someone on this street lost consciousness tonight Oh, oh, blood runs like rivers down this street tonight Oh, oh, someone on this street lost consciousness tonight All of the boys on 17th Street, they only know one thing And all of the boys on 17th Street, they all wear the same thing They used to talk about visibility but they don't see a thing And they speak it in the same voice but they don;t say anything Oh, oh, give up give up those silent signs Oh, oh, so we cannot break this heart, don't break this heart
quick quick, throw away those mannerisms Quick quick, knock and it will be opened Quick quick, ask and it will be given Quick quick, seek and you will find
All of the boys on 17th Street, they only know one thing And all of the boys on 17th Street, they all wear the same thing They used to talk about visibility but they don't see a thing And they speak it in the same voice but they don;t say anything
Safety in numbers is no solution If your own liberation becomes a prison Clones have dead beats while we have wild rhythms Clones' time is up and we carry the coffin
Open up your fucking mind and you can fly Silence is still death and clone fashion and clone motion are still silent signs Because you know we have the handle And you know they have the blade So, boys and girls, its time to decide decide decide