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Stories about Ourselves Lyrics
Blue Christmas lights
tell us stories about ourselves
I saw you biting yours nails
through a pane of glass in that restaurant
late night conversations when
you told me there were no stars
just satellites
And I lay down in the shirt you used
as a towel when there were none
left and that the stars were a felt
blanket draped over tabletops of a
smoke seeping factory (?) gestures
Bent puzzle pieces we are
small cities tall buildings
this glass flipper is giving me blisters
now
I'd prefer not
tell us stories about ourselves
I saw you biting yours nails
through a pane of glass in that restaurant
late night conversations when
you told me there were no stars
just satellites
as a towel when there were none
left and that the stars were a felt
blanket draped over tabletops of a
smoke seeping factory (?) gestures
small cities tall buildings
this glass flipper is giving me blisters
now
I'd prefer not
Song Info
Submitted by
passer-bye On Nov 01, 2007
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I believe that it is screaming gestures