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letra de thegreatintermissiondies! - haych

[intro]
“oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead – a worthy woman
today i would be wise and insightful
we would weave, my friends and i
and in the moonlight spin our yarn
and tell our stories to one another from dusk till midnight
we’d tell of the events of our day, silly things, matters of no consequence
but also i would grow very wise from the spinning
and i would say, ’how lucky am i’ to know how to make linen
how to comb wool, and weave lace; to design cup-like buds
open flowers, cherubim, palm trees, and all sorts of other fine things
colorful embroideries and furrow-like stitches.”

you don’t see me the way i see you
you don’t see me the way i see you, girl
i’m long gone, i’m long gone
i wish we could die (and hold me one time)
i’m long gone

[verse]
raised alone, i lay at night
wishing we could start again
thinking ‘why’d i have to lie?’
fall in love with a girlfriend
there will be no more first times
f-ck, i ruined most of them
i can’t even hope to cry
feeling for another friend
i dream every day that i could go back
(no one made a time machine)
tell the girl to ’kiss the girl’ so i could have that memory
(one day it’ll be a burning memory)

pick up the phone, haylie
you’re no longer alone, haylie
you’ve got some friends to see you (help you) bleed
but you’ve got some real ones, real people
kiss that girl as a girl, babe
take that boy to prom, the one you like, baby
i need to go back, i wanna experience teenage dreams
(it’s not-it’s not happening, it’s not f-)

[instrumental section]

(why don’t you call me pretty?)
(why don’t you call me pretty?)
(why don’t you ever kiss me?)
(i doubt you’d even miss me)
(please, just call me pretty)
(one time, just call me pretty)
(she looks at me so different)
(maybe i’m the issue)
(grow up, grow, grow out of it)
(need love, need trust or i’m out of here)
(send some, send some reefer down here)
(i’m gone, i’m gone to the stratosphere)
[instrumental section]

why don’t you call me pretty?
why don’t you call me pretty?
why don’t you ever kiss me?
i doubt you’d even miss me
please, just call me pretty
one time, just call me pretty
she looks at me so different
maybe i’m the issue
grow up, grow, grow out of it
need love, need trust or i’m out of here
send some, send some reefer down here
i’m gone, i’m gone to the stratosphere

(“this life sounds so wonderful”)
(“there must be some reason it’s out of reach”)
(“there must be something”)
(“skipping to the end now:”)

“what shall i say?
why cry or be bitter?
if my father in heaven has decreed upon me
and has maimed me with an immutable deformity
then i do not wish to remove it
the sorrow of the impossible is a human pain that nothing will cure
and for which no comfort can be found
so, i will bear and suffer until i die and wither in the ground
since i have learned from our tradition that we bless both, the good and the bitter
i will bless in a voice hushed and weak: blessed are you yhvh who has not made me a woman”
[instrumental section]

i missed the barbies and the dresses and the hems of the skirts
i missed a boyfriend during highschool who i’ll never speak to again
i missed the gossip, learning make-up and giving my mum a twirl
i never got to kiss a girl for the first time as a girl the same as her

and mother, i’ve counted all the times i’ve lied to you
and father, i wish i’d never been alone in this house
you see every pore bleed lies and lies as i lay here nude
bite off my f-cking hands for taking off that blood stained blouse

(jag är drabbad, drabbad av sjukdom)
i am stricken, stricken by illness
(jag är drabbad, drabbad av sjukdom)
i am stricken, stricken by illness
(jag är drabbad, drabbad av sjukdom)
wrists with red perfume, my palms clutch the incense
(springer i natten, in i asfalten)
i am stricken, stricken by illness
(jag är drabbad, drabbad av sjukdom)

i miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms
i miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world
(jag är drabbad, drabbad av sjukdom)
(jag är drabbad, drabbad av sjukdom)

i feel free
i feel every bone inside me
you are loved
you are enough
you’re more than enough
stop f-cking talking, gorgeous

[outro]
“and they wonder what’s wrong with ’em
coz they don’t have it figured out
they don’t have it all together
of course you don’t have it all together
you’re not supposed to have it all together
you’re not expected to have it all together
anybody looks at you at 26, 27, 28 years old
and says ‘hey man, what’s wrong with you?’
‘how come you don’t have everything figured out?’
they’re a fool
life is gon’ pull you out
and it’s gon’ put you on a anvil
and it’s gon’ hammer on your some more
and you’re gon’ say ‘what? am i done yet?’
‘am i a sword for the ages?’
uhhh, no
just chill, continue to have fun
now, by fun i’m not recomending you go out
drink your brains out at the bar and do something stupid
but, my goodness, go huntin’, go fishin’
get a mountain bike, go hikin’, go to the gym
go hang out around barbaque, five o’ your friends
and just act silly and act goofy
and be your age
and uh, and just… embrace the process”

- haych

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