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 suck it - the bug club

i sound like my father with too many feet
waiting to be lonely but it never usually happens

the sun shines brighter up here, every ray is eaten by my dirty long coat
my feet blur into [?] and my haircut is the silhouette of scotland
never thirsty and almost [?] that’s nothing i care about
for everything i want to be i can
and everything invisible — can suck it

let the playtime pastimes pretend money is a thing of the first years
pile it all up like a horrible tree and blow it down with songs of saturn
leave sp-cе empty
i can’t afford anything that large

the geesе of amsterdam are louder than my wall of food
happier than my [?]
lucky as my empty carriage and deader than i wanna be
their polished, pedals paddle through conversation
easy as a lie to a police man
you and the technicians at torch cannot see the true beauty of this warm, grey bicycle
but i can
because i’ve seen this kind of thing before
it’s textbook, and i’d better know who did it [?]!

are those the edges you talked about?
i imagined a black line with yellow on one side and a cold
lonely tomorrow on the other
looks more like a hollywood pigeon to me, whatever that means
my brother would know, but he is beyond the blurred boundary in the present, while i am lodged in the wheel of a 1973 bicycle
hurtling off the local baptist church roof
i’ve known better landings personally
but this brief encounter with dante will do nicely
especially since, it’s nearly christmas — if you can believe it
my mobile telephone is just one number
it dials at random, and a woman from france answers and tells me i’m [?] perfect and i’m beautiful
“not a soul wishes to be you, but every animal trusts you.”
that “you are free, and no obvious obstruction can sing your favourite line before you get the chance
no eyes turn green, if not already, when your shapeless answers ring out
bones snap in time to your soft, white mood and the sunshine, and [?], you paint your dry canvas.”
well, thank you, i guess, you give these things as presents to a [?] dog, but now my insides ache, and i’m leaking from the seams of my best trousers
perception needs no answer
same time tomorrow, then

people in that photograph don’t like each other now
one evaporates and waits, the other’s underground
it always looks like it could rain, the family suit’s still dry
the ground is getting almost hard enough to never try
days and days of busy boys, i cannot stand the smell
the women wouldn’t warn me, but i know their mothers well
give me your best guess and i’ll plant it in the book
i’ll grow another in the gutter [?] a closer look
everything is ugly when you’re so much stuck between
a gaping hole and one nostril still sniffing at a dream

those clouds look like my least favourite uncle’s dog
tired and old and a bit p-ssy
louder than you’d expect on a tuesday morning
no sharp sentence can spear a gun for tomorrow
and no blunt image can raise my spirits
for i am an empty sh-ll without the long crab
quite horrible
destroy the old white cells of solitude, [?] the damp cushion
run faster than faux fur on true leather can carry
stumble by the light of the moon’s rubbish candle
sit loudly at the table of my mother’s worst nightmare
and drink all the water
but not normally

i shine the shoes of people who are tired of looking dull
you cannot fix the weathered bricks you’re wearing [?]
no shining shoe, will [?]
i’m happy to be [?]

that cow splashes in the milk, that chicken sleeps on the eggs
there’s quite a string of [?]
that fish eats all the lemonade
that castle crumbles to old songs in bad jackets
that comedian laughs at nothing
this sad son of god, the carpenter
fixes locks and other broken beings

you are very welcome

- the bug club

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS