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• Artiste: Sleeping Cranes
• Titre: Land Legs
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.
Patrick swears the number twenty is green As I'm pushing smoke between my clicking teeth Grasping straws to watch a quarter note leap Or to taste all the vowels in some pretty girl's speech I'm pitching reason at a TV screen Peeling meaning off striated muscle memory In a muddy garden, uprooting the butterfly weed Penciled myself atop the list of people I need to please 'Cause if you don't love the skin slapped on your own bones Then what makes you think you can toss your heart To some new set of shaking hands? Siren sprinting from some sinking nicotine teeth A car stuffed with silver vapor THC The latex paint keeping order on strips of big concrete For million dollar minds and their blinking blackberries I think my land legs are back under me After a tearful baptism by a toilet seat Dreaming about having another sleepless week Lifting storm windows up for Kitty Genovese Zeroing the scales for here and Laramie With orange and purple ribbons stretching sky in the east Draining out the liquor with my bloodstream sieve Distill that open futures market of who I'm trying to be Leaving the girl inside her fabled antique dreams Shake my sadness into the asphalt of some west bound streets Pulling down the statues, planting burlap trees Trying to stretch my baby arms around all my eyes can meet 'Cause if you don't love the skin slapped on your own bones What makes you think you can toss your heart Into the bottom of the open air? And if you can't love the earthquake where you stand Just look, if it's all the way out in Denver Then it must be everywhere.