a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de black tea - alias (anticon.)

[intro]
grey weathered hair flowing long
comb it while i hum a song
thinking of the two scores ago when i lost my wife
wrinkled, spotted, worn hairness
standing, staring at the land where i used to frolic
the reason i had life

[verse 1]
welcome to the tea time, the liquid is a metaphoric brew
symbolize my feelings
i often sit and listen to the sun
as a means of staying attuned to my surroundings
(my surroundings, my surroundings, my surroundings, my surroundings)
often interrupted by amplified dripping
echoing through the house bouncing off the memories
returning back to awakening, the finite tea is salt
(salt, salt, salt, salt)
sip it slowly, in rhythm with the falling [?]
visions of the dance ping pong around inside
inside where i spend most of my time
(time, time, time)
both the mind and the body
the other departed some time ago and left with her
and now i’m just a sh-ll filling my insides with tea
tears
(tears, tears, tears, tears)
[interlude]
it’s the tenth day of the tenth month
clouds darken the skies
chill rain falls
death’s dragon rides like [?]
behind my thin wall by my small [?]
i brew my milk? tea
the last fruit clings to the tree
the wind [?]
with one blow he cuts it down

[verse 2]
the bell tolls, awakens me from my nap
still nothing next to me, it doesn’t change
it never will, it seems dreams of that day begin brewing
(brewing, brewing, brewing, brewing)
wait for the pot to sound off
you’d think i’d be enlightened with all these bells and whistles
what an oxymoron, opposition of that day
(day, day, day, day)
dismissal of the guilt is all too impossible
sit with head in hands, it’s a day’s regiment
[?] unheard of, routine is now my best friend
(friend, friend, friend, friend)
i’m no stranger to the cold
i welcome it to sit and share a cup
and we can talk and catch up on what is happening since we last met
my end of the conversation grows shorter every time we get together
i look up to the overcast [?] scared of the search for topics
to break this uncomfortable silence
again, i’m brought back by the sounds of crits[?]
as i sink myself in tea black with desperation
october, the time i hate the most
i feel so lonely on the tenth
more so than during the holiday season or her birthday
a bittersweet day
signifying the beginning and the end of something beautiful
[outro]
draped in her favorite comforter
wrapped up in what’s left
we get to blink sometimes
i sip my tea
and await tomorrow

- alias anticon

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS