My mast ain't so sturdy
|
My head is at half
|
I'm searching the clouds for the score
|
|
My lady avails herself
|
Of marked down freedom
|
Forever cashed out to no more
|
|
She put the blam in the blame
|
Bullets bearing the name
|
Of each tigress who's left you a tooth
|
Save the skins for a pelt
|
And the rest for a belt
|
That can't open
|
No nothing
|
Can't open
|
No nothing
|
|
Young liars
|
Thank you for taking my hands
|
|
Young liars
|
Oh thank you for taking my hands
|
|
Well it's cold and it's quiet
|
And cobblestone cold in here
|
Fucking for fear of not wanting
|
To fear again
|
Lonely is all we are
|
Lovely so far
|
But my heart's still a marble
|
In an empty jelly jar
|
|
Someday suppose that my
|
Curious nervousness
|
Spills into prescience
|
Clairvoyant consciousness
|
I will be calmer than cream
|
Making maps out of your dreams
|
|
But will psychic ability
|
Clinch the nativity
|
Or simply diminish the flinch
|
|
Oh young liars
|
Thank you for taking my hands
|
|
And burying them deep
|
In the world's wet womb
|
Where no one can heed their commands
|
|
Except young liars
|
|
Voice string trombone
|
Pull me forward onward
|
To the sea
|
|
Take my picture
|
Soon all I will be
|
Is my disease
|
|
Voice string trombone
|
Pull me forward onward
|
To the sea
|
|
Take my picture
|
Soon all I will be
|
Is my disease
|
|
-----------------
|
Young Liars
|
TV On The Radio |