Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Standing on a bus stop feeling your head pop out, in the night on the kind of night where you want be out on the street, crawling up the walls like a cat in heat. And the air is thin and it blows through your skin and you feel like something is about to begin but you don't know what and you don't know when, so you tear at your hair and you scratch at your skin You want to run away, just get on the fucking train and leave today and it doesn't matter where you spend the night. You might end up somewhere in a fight or caught in your room in a concrete shell, fighting all alone with yourself and you just want to feel like a coin that's been tossed in a wishing well, tossed in the air and you fell through the dark blue waters where you cast your spell, like you were just a wish that could turn out well. So you stand on the corner where the angels sit and you think to yourself, "This is it. This is all that I have. All I can stand is this air in my lungs and this coin in my hand that you tossed in the air and I fell all the way to the bottom of the well." Like those soft little secrets that you tell to yourself when you think no one's listening too well. And the walls spin and you're paper thin from the haze of the smoke and the mescaline, the sweat of your brow under unmade sheets in your ear with the noise from the darkened streets where you ran far and wide, you screamed, you cried, you thought suicide was an alibi. But you were always a mess. You were always aloof. It's awful I guess. But it's the awful truth. It was true from the first to the last words that she read. The she emerged from the dark like a ghost in my head. She said, "I haven't forgot any words that you said. I just stare at clocks and cry in my sleep and I tear up our letters and i burn them in heaps and I gather the ashes in that hole in the ground where we fell." |