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Think of me when you forget your seatbelt. |
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And again when your head goes through the windshield.
Lyric dump today, kiddo's. You want more anger and slumming.. go find it yourself, it's all still waiting.
Brand New - "Good to know that if I ever need attention all I have to do is die."
Am I correct to defend the fist that hold this pen?
It's ink that lies
The pen, the page, the paper
I live; I learn
You will always take what I have earned
So aid my end
While I believe I'm winning
Our friends speak out in our defense
I pay ten deaf ears for two months' rent
We burn the gallows they erect
And cut the nooses they tie for our necks
You constantly make it impossible
To make conversation
We're comatose; we're audible
And I like it the farther I get out
We passed it off but it's all on us
For common conversation, it took everything I got
And I like it the farther I get out
Once said, always said
I will hold the past over your head
I'll speak my mind whenever I feel slighted
I am hellbent
I'm extracting all of my revenge
So take heart, sweetheart
Or I will take it from you
I slip, concealed, back to the keep
Concede to do the work for free
We prey as wolves among the sheep
And slit the necks of soldiers while they sleep
You constantly make it impossible
To make conversation
We're comatose; we're audible
And I like it the farther I get out
We passed it off but it's all on us
For common conversation, it took everything I got
And I like it the farther I get out
You constantly make it impossible
To make conversation
We're comatose; we're audible
And I like it the farther I get out
We passed it off but it's all on us
For common conversation, it took everything I got
I like it the farther I get out
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Brand New - "Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades"
Keep the noise low,
She doesn't wanna blow it,
Shake from head to toe
while your left hand does the "show me around"
Quickens your heartbeat,
It beats me straight into the ground.
You don't recover from a night like this.
A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless.
A hand moves in the dark to a zipper.
Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets
barely whisper, "This is so messed up."
Upon arrival the guests had all stared.
Dripping wet and clearly depressed,
he'd headed straight for the stairs.
No longer cool, but a boy in a stitch,
unprepared for a life full of lies and failing relationships.
(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)
He keeps his hands low.
He doesn't wanna blow it.
He's wet from head to toe and
his eyes give her the up and the down.
His stomach turns and he thinks of throwing up.
But the body on the bed beckons forward
and he starts growing up.
The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason i breathed, but now its choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.
She hits the lights.
This doesn't seem quite fair.
Despite everything he learned from his friends,
he doesn't feel so prepared.
She's breathing quiet and smooth.
He's gasping for air.
"This is the first and last time," he says.
She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He's holding back from telling her
exactly what it really feels like.
He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.
She's moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.
Nothing that tells her is really having an effect.
He whispers that he loves her,
but she's probably only looking for...
(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)
So much more than he could ever give.
A life free of lies and a meaningful relationship.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He waits for it to end
and for the aching in his guts to subside.
The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason i breathed, but now its choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.
Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.
The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason i breathed, but now its choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.
 Twistex · Sun Aug 21, 2005 @ 05:46pm · 5 Comments |
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