Tytuł: Too cold here

• Wykonawca: Manic Street Preachers
• Wyświetleń: 173

  
   Born in burial gowns, recessing slowly
  You soon wish you couldn't see at all
  Tortured in the mind, six voices alone
  Futile gestures, emotionless groans
  
  Everyone asks what's wrong but what's right
  And a cute lie makes everything uptight
  To kill your dream before it's considered
  To live in silence, airless closet, no vision
  
  It's easier to make love to a stranger
  Than to ask a friend to call
  Suspicion knows nothing
  And is known for not much at all
  Much at all
  
  Too cold here
  Ten years of bleeding inside
  Always look for walls
  To lean beside
  
  Too cold here
  Ten years of bleeding its eyes
  Always look for shade
  To cover your eyes
  
  Self-pity yourself is so shallow
  I'm so sick in mind and body, heart cold as stone
  Whiskey mac aroma, peace of mind
  Hello Mr Samson, you can clean my soul
  
  Wake up sighing mass for the bleeding
  Never share sadness, mine, no man prays painless
  Coalescing, mine are hidden rooms
  Cannot give anything, I never could
  
  Prison, it's only four walls but sometimes
  The mind is the smallest prison of all
  Offering there upon offering
  As a ball with a touch feels through its fall
  Through its fall
  
  Too cold here
  Ten years of bleeding inside
  Always look for walls
  To lean beside
  
  Too cold here
  Ten years of bleeding its eyes
  Always look for shade
  To cover your eyes