1. |
Restless
04:24
|
|||
|
Every word that you say
leaves me insane
your consonants implode
your vowels decode
I can't decide
between genius or divine
you're a mystery a to me
a flower in the breeze
oh my goodness
I'm so restless
as all my weakness
grows in the dark
I should know now
your in my head
cause when I'm tossin'
no one is there
I am the tree
you are the vine
will you grow on me
in good time
or will the fire catch us
and burn away our trust
till we're nothing but smoke
in the company of ghosts
oh my goodness
I'm so restless
as all my weakness
grows in the dark
I should know now
your in my head
cause when I'm tossin'
no one is there
come on old sentiment
dig me out from my lies and regrets
help me to understand
that all of this ends
the bitter way I hang my head
staring at the ocean
buried in the sand
wishing and pining
breathing my last
cynical breathe
oh my goodness
I'm so restless
as all my weakness
grows in the dark
I should know now
your in my head
cause when I'm tossin'
no one is there
|
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2. |
A Revolution Of Plants
03:33
|
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|
The cars on the canvas are headed to space
you put my hand on your heart when you look at the dust and the remains
spitting out gas in the atmosphere
you choke out a few words and say
I wanna see a star disappear
when it comes to mischief
your vase breaks your voice cracks
and your caught talking to the plants
your drinks are sour
in the east wing tower
where we pick the lock and start a revolution
my darling I conclude that I like you
the boats on the canvas follow the cars
through the smooth disposition of the captain in charge
I hope this junker has enough to keep up the pace
and squeeze out a few more miles
before we're drained and useless
when it comes to mischief
your vase breaks your voice cracks
and your caught talking to the plants
your drinks are sour
in the east wing tower
where we pick the lock and start a revolution
my darling I conclude that I like you
Oh no there go the breaks
we spin and get gobbled by shame
I hold you so close
while the atmosphere confines us
to the stormy skies on the wings of a broken butterfly
oh what a vicious way for our beauty to survive
cars on the canvas have headed to space
they leave us behind in the dust and the remains
so we sift through the vines for the ripest of grapes
that we use to make wine and fuel our escape
|
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