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 i don't want to live forever - marsy mars

“he who truly lives once lives forever”

chorus 1-
i don’t want to live forever
i want to be keep to the stark
truth that to be turned from right and wrong’s
to live for nothing, and for so long

verse 1-
“life is long
but it’s still too short for poor choices”
so i thought drinking cold from the river
on which the foam rolled like rolls royces;
might yet look up, and yep, there’s a fella p-ssing upstream of me;
they say p-ss and blood spilt both track in the direction of home
but when i pass this wine for a second time, its paths divide; i groan;
my holy knee ails me, as i roam in this mercenary train
a specialist gardener of revolutions, while my caravans of regrets
the legacies of my choices; as i roam the land, they roam me
i’m tasked with finding or otherwise raising a rome for those i lead
i no longer know if i’m really leading them to anything, but to be led
but still, through all the beauty of this world, and its abjection
of which no amount of possession qualifies one for its protection
sing up, you farmhands who sow red flowers of fire
and if i die, and time finds my cause to be wanting…
all i want’s a place to call my own, die for it should
such drama be ordered on behalf of the garden
that on my soul holds an ordinate lease
chorus 2-
no i don’t want to live forever:
i want to appeal up to the stars
but i want to be turned to the bronze
mouthpiece and shield of something
and be steeled for so-long

verse 2-
the truth hovers playfully, just out of sight
waiting for my capture, vain of its great long
tail edged with fuschia: clowning, levitating
in the infinite diversity and fertile woe of uncharted mind
whatever the nature of truth’s animal
no man was made to its likeness; its
student most disciplest, though, that we must strive to be
in doing as it does, snoozing above its sternest nature
“i don’t want to live forever: i got life, i got life
and the wisdom required to manipulate it right,”
this, in my dreams could i rightfully cry, when really
i can’t chart or chop my way out this jungular mind
i was looking for a formula to all the chaos
truthfully i’m crushed beneath its proof
love’s perfumery’s looted; dolorosa’s roost boosted
for the value of its real estate and paved over;
if i’m living like i’ll live forever
then i might as well not be living at all
arcadia ain’t out there anywhere: i’m beginning to think
it might exist only within, a city whose florins are minted
from solipsism, its walls composed of the very same thing
i’ve been wrong about so much; i can only hope
that i’m also wrong about this
i’m not ready yet to be in death’s favour, yet that
is what makes me more eligible candidate for it;
i’ve built nothing, reaped nothing, helped few
been saviour of no one, yet
my search a battle that might never be won, yet one
my heart will force me to spartan til’s never end;
and if such sisyphean, epictetean fate’s the case, then
verse 3-
i have a meeting with death, one of few
revolutionary leaders that inspires hope, instead of fear
to complain to ‘em i’m no different from my ranch-hands and laymans
we all languish in terror and anguish and a perpetual waiting
our intellects as immersed in the dark as stars in the night
in a world that adores the performance of wisdom, but won’t pay its prices
i lodge a complaint to death of the fanaticism of left and right; ‘bout
that possession by error of those who’ll neither fashion nor find a centre
something better must to come, and death i don’t just mean you
i mean something to make indissoluble union of these clashing forces
death will give me all the time in the world; i know that punishment
it is the sentence for passion unabused, the rope at whose
ends hang those who yoke their purpose to inertia only
without passing, the earth spins as it might well not spin at all
my pudding can be stirred, cannot be stirred back again
impermanence engines every machine in our factory of meaning
i don’t want to live forever; with eternal life dies
the tension of my attempt to catch and polymerate with my ideal self;
the one that might make dice, 7s and 9s and companions alike
alight to life at a caress, to shuck epiphany from b-n-l substances
that are our nerve’s exile, our vision’s bread n cirque n our
imagination’s benefitless, workless isolation’s crest
death i make no enemy of you, i’ll join your union
i’ll work with you, to ensure that really you work for me;
i think you’ll find that i am a sk!lled employee
i think you’ll find as well that i charge a high, high fee

- marsy mars

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS