1. |
twisting a blade
03:34
|
|||
|
you come around here looking like a ghost,
your either hard as ice or soft as snow,
you once told me that you didn't have a heart,
but what i saw in you wasn't so dark.
you say you know how to take a fall,
i just don't know what you're doing it for.
i'd say your twisting a rusted blade,
what makes you think you deserve the pain.
when we lovers in that dead romance,
i thought you could kill what made me sad,
but i still ached every time we got high,
i know now it was an awful lie.
you say you know how to take a fall,
i just don't know what you're doing it for.
i'd say your twisting a rusted blade,
what makes you think you deserve the pain.
|
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2. |
say hello to the machine
03:06
|
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|
shadows are playing on the wall,
their figures now so far removed,
from the fire that burns outside,
from the water that keeps you quiet.
everybody knows what it is to be alone.
say hello to,
the machine,
while a war,
is raging within.
faces hidden behind masks,
emotions that never surface.
hear the thunderstorm come rolling in,
as mother earth cries for her children.
everybody knows what it is to be alone.
say hello to,
the machine,
while a war,
is raging within.
|
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3. |
like it was nothing
03:54
|
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|
i know of a place,
where the winter's are warm,
and the people don't cut each other down,
like it was nothing.
what a shame it is,
to only exist,
within the space that occupies your head.
the city will burn blood red,
what will it matter if your already dead?
i don't wanna see you grow cold,
behind a tv screen,
thinking everything you love,
is an illusion.
i understand that it's hard,
to know what is real,
when you keep waking up in a bad dream.
the city will burn blood red,
what will it matter if your already dead?
|
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4. |
hard living blues
03:00
|
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|
when everything is lonely i take a little time,
to quietly design a world of my own,
see a river rolling by as the pilgrims climb the mountainside,
hear the helpless squire weeping for his first love.
i got the hard living blues,
all other colours have been refused.
while the city is asleep and the people are a-dreaming,
a world rarely seen lives out its perfection,
see the owl staring out over her silent kingdom,
hear farmer sing soft as he tends to his harvest.
i got the hard living blues,
all other colours have been refused.
|
||||
black cat Brisbane, Australia
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