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• Artiste: Cure, The
• Titre: Strum
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It will be so perfect, I said. Too beautiful for words. It will be?so perfect I said. My words are stupid, worthless, merely so much noise I want to cover up the wall Good things really never run the first time through Adapted for our latest ploy A pantomime of feeling good?good?good! And waving as the smile just sits But really I have never cared less in my life To ever smile again. I sit before the mirror white and draw my red eyes black. My head is full of everyone you ever knew Reflected, tired and cracked. My act is empty, hopeless only so much luck A show to cover up the stage All this strewn to satisfy another you in Acting out this tired charade. A pantomime of feeling good?good?good?good?gooooood! Drowning as the smile drips down. But really I have never cared less in my life Whatever turns around. I sit before the mirror cold and paint my black mouth red. Your head is full of everyone I ever knew Reflected, old and dead. It will still be perfect, you said. Too beautiful for words. It will still?be perfect?