Home
Top Artistes
Top Paroles
Ajouter Paroles
Contact
menu
search
Contactez-nous
Artiste:
Reaching Quiet
Titre:
You Choke
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
hey man, the universe didn't start with zero 'cause they didn't know where to put it so they had to invent negative numbers time is a number line with jesus at the zero and two arrows with infinite ticks pointing left and right i keep finding myself in the same back left seat in someone elses car on another road trip to chicago, new york, or in an airplane watching thunderstorms over detroit and the east-bound short-night accelerated sunrise, is it quicker to travel west since the way the world rotates? will california meet you halfway? i'm sick of cigarette smoke in my hair, and the grease combed wig i wear at shows i have no patience for sales tax and shitty neon signs death is an arrow and the tick marks are parking meters don't feed your kids dead flesh from the floor your president is a hologram with his manicured fingernails and a fresh haircut danny glover is a hologram with his barrel chest and beard britney spears is a hologram with a boob-job and lipstick people that believe in holograms eat gorton's fish sticks it's true, virginia slims pays bea arthur thirty thousand dollars a year to smoke a pack a day target says "here we grow again" as a positive statement all these billboards directed at soccer moms in maroon wagons on four-lane highways outside of chicago, detroit, minneapolis, who's allowing blockbuster to tear down housing projects to have three stores in two blocks? why does the winning world assume we're all self centered? there is no room for rococo decadence in this new world awaiting the nuke-bomb mad max makeover the half-mast flag at the park shows proof of mourning on a dry blue sky memorial day monday, seventy five, sunny ..died, pulling a fifty foot flag, bit by bit from his fist like a cheap magic trick while standing in a bed of black-eyed-susans and wearing a store-bought blindfold he'd be the first to tell you that if you get hit by a car hard or stand too close to where a bomb drops in a city park bed of black-eyed-susans, it might just literally knock your socks off and he'd hope that the flag's half-mastedness wouldn't spoil your beautiful september afternoon cut grass sidewalk life not even a bit don't swallow the knife no need to say shit keep flying that kite