Альбом Cursive

words have no feeling
without loaded meanings
words take too long to come across
meanings are meant for
defining definitions
we load them for effect
it's cheap but it's working
it's the best I've got to get your attention
i could never get your attention
i could never please you
these verses are wasted
on words you won't relate to
on words you'll never hear

it's not working- i don't feel any better
i don't feel so well
the verbal breakdown has failed
so I'm whispering secrets
hush, hush on the loudspeaker
words sculpted on verse
become absurd
but it's the best i've got to get your attention
i could never get your attention
i could never please you
words so sympathetic
symphonic, yet- pathetic
are tossed on to the song

the meaning is lost
words just wont work
words are slowly demeaning
their meanings
words make things worse
words are always repeating
losing their feeling
these words failed
words fail

congratulations
looks like you finally made it, boy
you're a real major-leauger now
mama must be so, so proud
the word around
is that your nest was too cozy
see, some words are like bricks
and so we built our fortresses

you're on your own now, boy
i bet you got the whole world figured out
one man cleans up after the pony
and another man rides that pony out
and prances around
isn't that what you were trained for
but your words weigh you down
you built your nest of bricks
built your nest of bricks

all (we say)
we are (today)
is all (we say)
we'll be (tomorrow)

watching cars
will anyone stop for us
or will we be passed by
be passed on
the day passes away
the moment cracks along the sidewalk
and we're alone
imagining what songs would be on our soundtrack

maybe its me
i've lost faith in visibilty
on this street we are ghosts of the passers-by
passive and stranded
the clouds are closing on
it's a storm watch, so beware
these cars have been known to capsize in strong winds

we've lost transmission...
we've lost transmission...

don't tell me this is how it ends
don't tell me this is how it ends

wind blow
a semi capsized in the storm
stranded
the rains of June have cleansed it
a baptism of sufferage

take two
one man beneath a waning moon
still birth
the abortive child of entropy
careening for identity

tempt him
break him in slowly
his heart is quick to judge
but his hands are too lonely
break him in slowly...

the red dawn
another storm opens her arms
she's whispering,
"surrender all your loyalties."
hand over your idle hands of false idols
let the rains embrace you

now...
break them in slowly
young hearts are quick to judge
but their hands are so lonely
break them in slowly...
break them in slowly...

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Let's get one thing straight,
we don't have any answers.
We are proposals in a cosmic nursery,
and these massive stars,
they're just little twinkles,
if I can't possess them at such magnificence.
So if you can really hear me
and you really think you believe me,
there must be some kind of privilege here
to putter around with such an existence.
You see me on some stage,
and you believe it's really me over there,
there's a chance it's not really me.
Maybe we're not ourselves at all.
And maybe being is simply believing
that each breath we take in
must lead to another breath out,
one more breath away from yesterday,
and a timeline of yesterdays,
filled in with love or with pain
or whatever bullshit we smear on our sleeves.
I've found my cause, and this is it.
There are no answers.

Am I what I am?
Am I what I am?
Is that what this is?
Is this all there is?

since I wrote this am I the culprit
these useless wisdoms I dispense
at your expense
picture postcards
a three minute essay
some scribbled words to four line verse

meanwhile, we mean well
we cannot escalate or escape this
so let's pretend our little songs are more than songs
more like sermons
attention, attention: that's all we're asking for

our little songs are our little whores
jukebox cupids- and the medium's a trend
the music lends itself to it- to itself
the lyrics bend to make the song

attention, attention:
don't tell me that's all we're writing for
picture postcards
three minute essays
we can never fit in what we want to say.

i sat around for hours on end
before an end so clearly breathin to me
i shall no longer play a part of your equation
i missed your boat passing time
cause we must have stayed off shore
to avoid sad striations
avoidance has been your trump

still i wait for you
this is the best that i can do
to throw my energy into your apathy
it's the best that i can do

i once had pride i once had guts
but i gave up all that shit for the big easy
so now i rely on you to get me through this
i once believed i had a name
but my name was changed
to the numbers on my resume
so i hope that you're impressed

i did it all for you
it's the best that i could do
a little song and dance can have its consequences
it's the best that i can do
to sit around the phone
the pace just waits for you
this is the best that i can do
this is the best that i can do

i sweat it out for hours on end
for an answer clearly breathing to me
i sweat it out for hours on end
for an end so obviously breathing to me

a safe position back against the wall
a simple shrug to shrug the questions off
there's no action
there is no reaction
coveted, i fight the consequence
so if no one moves and no one speaks a word
we could act ok

we must stand still
we must honor your stalemate
and we will slumber
have we ever been awake?
have we done a thing?
when summer's over will we dream of spring?
saftey could be disabling
a crippled history is all it succeeds

a safe position
turn out the phone
hang the blankets over the windows
cuz if no one's home then know one's responsible
there's no responce but just two blind eyes
to see through you
they won't see you anymore

we must stand still
wemust honor this stalemate
until we find out
have we ever been present?
are we too past-tense
when summer's over
will we face our home
saftey is disabling
a crippled history

abstancy
abstancy
you're safe with me
coveted, i fight the season
absentee
you're safe with me
when summer's over will you dream of your crippled history
crippled history crippled history crippled history...

northern winds came wistling through evergreens
like trains
one temper broods 'till a temperature breaks
and blooms-smashing and tearing what we've worked toward
one hand will break what he other hand builds

board the windows up
keep the cellar locked
we'll feign restraint until it's over and settled
our wills are just as strong as the walls we built for them
i won't rebuild what i have crumbled
i'm tired

what is faith- it's been replaced by insurance policies
when one thing breaks we'll just have in replaced
like faith... once whistled through the trees
now so still
one hand will break what the other hand builds

board up the windows
keep the cellar locked
you never know when little fevers- could flare up
for every day when it's calm, there must be something brewing
there's always something storming through these evergreens
like trains

northern winds came crashing and burning down our walls.

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