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• Artiste: Beck
• Titre: Curses
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Curses I send, On these countless men, Curses on their trespasses, Will they never end? Curses on their blades, On the spare and open lanes, Once I've been searching, Recipe acclaim (??). Curses on their children, Running all around, Making such a business While I'm rusting in the ground, I might rise up to meet them When they leave this life, Might rise up to eat them When they leave this life. Curses on this valley, And the lands on up ahead, I was on my way to meet them When they found me dead, And I clapped my brittle hands, And I made them join my game, Now I hope they all decease, And marry a man in shame. Curse every word That's planted on their lips, Curse the sleek machine And their iron colored ships, Curse every wave that Pounds a wicked shore, Curse every salesman Knocking on their door. And I am not a creature, And I am not a dog, I have no claim to be there In the evening fog, And I am not a bone Staring through the air, Have no say in anything, My tongue is barely there. Curses on curses, I see no other way, Some of them are weeping, And some of them gay, Some of them have worn So deep they feel no pain, Curses on their fingers, Curses on their brains.