Jets To Brazil - Psalm على يركيت

Lyrkit

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Psalm

Psalm

(الألبوم: Perfecting Loneliness - 2002)

Oh, hair of dread, the time is here
Thirty-three, the sheep draw near
With eyes so keen, they cannot hear all the lies that buy their ears

Oh, horse pants, tobacco chest
Oh, sex ghost. Oh, nape of neck
The tears are crashing on her breast
The burning bed is out again

If it's sad, you know it's true
God is glad on bluer moons
When your room is all you do, it comes to you

Oh, my rank ink instrument
Row my boat towards abstinence
With thoughts as long as cigarettes
Snowed in lips and cross protect

Oh, that birdlike appetite
Do passive fasts make us contrite?
On silken highways of the night
The spiders crawl my candlelight

Where the sun shines in space
God is dumb; God is great
But does he love us all the same?
Are we okay?

And I cried out your name
Because I loved the sound it made
And because I couldn't wait to see your face
And nothing ever was the same

And the stars say, 'Look into my eyes.'
But I can't change if it's only in my mind
And I love you but I don't have the right
And I wanted you so bad tonight

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