Print

Every day it's Friday night I hold my body like a butcher knife Smiling for the camera eyes closed Doing anything you ask, I suppose You tell me you would die to breathe me in I know there's no excuse for oxygen So I will make your bed my graveyard But the world went through my soft parts And I live at this faultline Between the edge of solitude and hope I'm shaking at the sentimental trope And though the stars apologize for night I don't blame them, I've wanted to sometimes I don't know what to tell you where I've been My body is just a landscape for your sin And all the days regret the city lights I know it's just the fault of the faultline Every week keeps slipping by In this imitation paradise The angels make me sorry when I err From the way they want me everywhere Can't you see I'm sinking through the rear end Wish you could reimburse my oxygen I gave you everything and then some more SongtexteLeft you with nothing to be looking for Will I die at this faultline? Between the edge of entropy and woe I wanted everything so much it grows Until I can't manage this appetite I left you so traumatically that I Can barely lift the world you left for me There's lots of ghosts I somehow still can see Holding on to me for our dear life All these bodies always touching mine Aus Songtexte Mania