Admiral Fallow @ ABC - Beetle In The Box (NEW)
04:14 автор bbwoolfy 29 January 2012 02:58 1 556 просмотров
текст трека
Hold your tongue the unwilling and the safe
Make your mark in your own tiny way
Your own miniature firework display for one
Fear of facing the shadow on the shore
Tied in knots and hung out on the backdoor
The 'boy-done-good' thoughts of valour and the all for one
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine
I eat your words and you mark my mistakes
We set the dictionary up to fail
The work of poets is a vapour we exhale it's gone
Fleeting fondness is a flicker in your frown
Spilling out in adjectives and nouns
A mess of letters once it's chewed and swallowed down all gone
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine
How do you feel pain?
(Tremors through the floor)
How do you hear sound?
(Tapping on the walls)
I wish I could feel it all
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine
Make your mark in your own tiny way
Your own miniature firework display for one
Fear of facing the shadow on the shore
Tied in knots and hung out on the backdoor
The 'boy-done-good' thoughts of valour and the all for one
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine
I eat your words and you mark my mistakes
We set the dictionary up to fail
The work of poets is a vapour we exhale it's gone
Fleeting fondness is a flicker in your frown
Spilling out in adjectives and nouns
A mess of letters once it's chewed and swallowed down all gone
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine
How do you feel pain?
(Tremors through the floor)
How do you hear sound?
(Tapping on the walls)
I wish I could feel it all
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine
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