(no subject)
In this collapsed lung of a world,
There is no sunlight,
The sunlight is manufactured in a windowless room,
Distant and incoherent,
Business men hang themselves.
The lower east side is a jukebox,
Playing the deadman's crescendo,
The needle is a vector,
In an intersection that we all must cross,
A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls,
Discard this message.
Discard this message,
Throw this bottle back into the ocean,
Rip this page from the history book,
Smash all the street signs erase all the maps,
Forget my name forget my face,
Forget my name,
Because it's gonna rain, it's gonna rain,
And it never ends.
We all sing the songs of separation,
As we watch our lives,
Bleed through our hands,
That's how it was on the first day,
That we saw Paris in flames.
Thursday has once again become my favourite band. I can't wait until their new album comes out.
There is no sunlight,
The sunlight is manufactured in a windowless room,
Distant and incoherent,
Business men hang themselves.
The lower east side is a jukebox,
Playing the deadman's crescendo,
The needle is a vector,
In an intersection that we all must cross,
A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls,
Discard this message.
Discard this message,
Throw this bottle back into the ocean,
Rip this page from the history book,
Smash all the street signs erase all the maps,
Forget my name forget my face,
Forget my name,
Because it's gonna rain, it's gonna rain,
And it never ends.
We all sing the songs of separation,
As we watch our lives,
Bleed through our hands,
That's how it was on the first day,
That we saw Paris in flames.
Thursday has once again become my favourite band. I can't wait until their new album comes out.