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• Artiste: Elliott Smith
• Titre: Bled White
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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I'm a color reporter But the city's been bled white And the doctor orders drinks all night to take away this curse But it makes me feel much worse Bled white So I wait for the f-train And connect through a friend of mine To a yesterday dream 'Cos I'll have to be high to drag the sunset down And paint this paling town Bled white So here he comes with the blank expression Especially for me 'cos he knows I feel the same 'Cos happy and sad come in quick succession I'm never going to become what you became Don't you dare disturb me While I'm balancing my past 'Cos you can't help or hurt me Like it already has I may not seem quite right But I'm not fucked, no quite Bled white Bled white