Tuesday, August 14, 2007

A proximate introspective in lyrics

I've got a hunger
Twisting my stomach into knots
That my tongue was tied off

My brain's repeating
"if you've got an impulse let it out"
But they never make it past my mouth.

Baa bah, this is the sound of settling
Baa bah, baa bah

Our youth is fleeting
Old age is just around the bend
And I can't wait to go grey

And I'll sit and wonder
Of every love that could've been
If I'd only thought of something charming to say.


Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown


So, you want something
And you call, call
And I'll come running to fight

And I'll be at your door

When there's nothing worth running for

When your mind's made up

There's no point trying to change it

When your mind's made up

There's no point trying to stop it

See, you're just like everyone

When the shit falls

All you want to do is run away

And hide all by yourself

When you're far from me, there's nothing else


Get a real job
Keep the wind at your back and the sun on your face
All the immediate unknowns
Are better than knowing this tired and lonely fate

Let's not forget ourselves good friend
You and I were almost dead
And you're better off for leaving
Yeah you're better off for leaving

(Death Cab For Cutie, Death Cab For Cutie, Glen Hansard & Markéta Iglová, and Rilo Kiley, respectively.)

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