Letra da Música Bucket Of Silence de Sage Francis
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Had I known then what I know now.
Had I thought now what I knew then...
I might still be human
with all the little stupid fix-ins
As I fix sins and vixens vick souls
Stitch clothes for the characters they play then switch roles.
Nail me to the cross dress.
The holy cloth costs less.
I'd toss less
if I still had your soft breasts to rest my head on.
Since you've been gone
I recalled my issues with problems and hate
but I can't exactly remember the model or make.
Now glass bottles break in my death grip.
I'm about to take the next quick exit and end this head trip.
My bed is stripped of its blankets, comforters, pillows and sheets,
but I might have to peel off all my skin to remove
your scent in order to sleep.
I had my highs and lows.
When on top, I let you peek out over my nose.
Sitting on my shoulders and I suppose if I had a backbone,
you might still be here.
My skin is filthy...
from my lows when you weren't there. But to keep from feeling guilty
I collected the dirt...Kept it piling up.
Now Mr Feel Nothing saves his tears inside of a cup
and he drinks. And he forgets that he's an asshole.
Jealous of his ghosts and doubts that he even has a soul.
My secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping.
I'm a ghost writer for the horrorcore lyrics my personal mosters sing.
I'm sitting in a strangers tub...
with all my clothes on...shivering...considering the dangers of love.
They get half of what I have to give...IF THAT.
It's all about the packaging. They're distracted by the gift rap.
Predictable. Easy to manipulate.
They're foreshadow puppets and I'm waiting for their strings to break.
The pillars that once held up my halfway house have been taken out.
I'm in my last days now. There's a change coming soon.
I just want to crawl back into my mother's womb.
I need a comfort zone,
But obviously I need to find another home
To call my own...and always return to
and I want it to be you.
I sit and stare, zone out, think a lot and never sleep,
creating memories to remember and then I forget to eat.
Went to the street you used to live on,
staring at the bedroom window of your old home
with puppy eyes...waiting for God to throw me a bone.
I'd settle for one more goodbye kiss while I settle for less.
I'm unsettled at best. Sulking while abandoning settlements.
Insulting my companions intelligence...conversing with baby talk.
Playing with mind games. Rehearsing with playful thought.
Its the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold,
when you made me walk through rain
and mud puddles down a dirt road. it left me
so messy
forget me...
not
I've got more mud to sling...
Shot.
Had I thought now what I knew then...
I might still be human
with all the little stupid fix-ins
As I fix sins and vixens vick souls
Stitch clothes for the characters they play then switch roles.
Nail me to the cross dress.
The holy cloth costs less.
I'd toss less
if I still had your soft breasts to rest my head on.
Since you've been gone
I recalled my issues with problems and hate
but I can't exactly remember the model or make.
Now glass bottles break in my death grip.
I'm about to take the next quick exit and end this head trip.
My bed is stripped of its blankets, comforters, pillows and sheets,
but I might have to peel off all my skin to remove
your scent in order to sleep.
I had my highs and lows.
When on top, I let you peek out over my nose.
Sitting on my shoulders and I suppose if I had a backbone,
you might still be here.
My skin is filthy...
from my lows when you weren't there. But to keep from feeling guilty
I collected the dirt...Kept it piling up.
Now Mr Feel Nothing saves his tears inside of a cup
and he drinks. And he forgets that he's an asshole.
Jealous of his ghosts and doubts that he even has a soul.
My secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping.
I'm a ghost writer for the horrorcore lyrics my personal mosters sing.
I'm sitting in a strangers tub...
with all my clothes on...shivering...considering the dangers of love.
They get half of what I have to give...IF THAT.
It's all about the packaging. They're distracted by the gift rap.
Predictable. Easy to manipulate.
They're foreshadow puppets and I'm waiting for their strings to break.
The pillars that once held up my halfway house have been taken out.
I'm in my last days now. There's a change coming soon.
I just want to crawl back into my mother's womb.
I need a comfort zone,
But obviously I need to find another home
To call my own...and always return to
and I want it to be you.
I sit and stare, zone out, think a lot and never sleep,
creating memories to remember and then I forget to eat.
Went to the street you used to live on,
staring at the bedroom window of your old home
with puppy eyes...waiting for God to throw me a bone.
I'd settle for one more goodbye kiss while I settle for less.
I'm unsettled at best. Sulking while abandoning settlements.
Insulting my companions intelligence...conversing with baby talk.
Playing with mind games. Rehearsing with playful thought.
Its the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold,
when you made me walk through rain
and mud puddles down a dirt road. it left me
so messy
forget me...
not
I've got more mud to sling...
Shot.
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Agony In Her BodyAll Word No PlayAndy KaughmanBlack SweatshirtBridleBroken WingsBuckets Of SilenceCafe GirlCan I Kick It?Climb TreesCome Come NowCrack PipesCrumbleCup Of TeaDance MonkeyDays Grow OldDifferentDirty MacDisastersDoomage DamageEscape ArtistEviction NoticeFollow Me Snippet VerseFreshGarden GnomesGround ControlGunz YoHaunted House PartyHey BobbyHopelessI ApologizeI Keep CallingInherited ScarsJah Didn't Kill JohnnyJah Didn't Kill Johnny (cash)Jesus In A Bowl Of GermsKilling Time Live On 90.3Lie Detector TestLife Is What Distracts You From DeathMainstream 307 Non ProphetsMajority RuleMakeshift PatriotMakeshift PatroitMermaids Are Sea Sluts (spoken Word Piece Performed On 90.3 Wriu)Message SentMullet (spoken Word Recorded Live At The Met Café, 1998)MutinyMy Name Is StrangeNarcissistNext TestamentOliver TwistedPen To The Gun FightPersonal JournalistPitchers Of SilenceProduct PlacementRewriteRunawaysSea LionSlow Down GandhiSmoke And MirrorsSouvenier (unreleased)SpecialistStrange FamousStuckSun Vs. MoonTestimonyThe Buzz KillThe Emperor's New ClothingThe Strange Famous Mullet RemoverThe Time Of My LifeThe Weak LinkThe Write A 1995/1996 Class ProjectThreewrite (non-prophets)Tree Of KnowledgeTriteVital SignsWaterlineWeak LinkWho's CryingWhore MongerWhore Monger Sing-alongYou Can't Give Up On Love
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Ficha Técnica da Música Bucket Of Silence
Número de Palavras | 433 |
Número de Letras | 2625 |
Intérprete | Sage Francis |
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