Club Night — Mute

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Текст Club Night — Mute

It is strange, the sound of your own voice
Bleating out against the wind
I hope the sad buzzards don’t notice our death
The years they have made a mess

What is the animal
I think nothing only haste
Someone leans over
To throw dirt in my open grave
A half million dead drunks
Can’t seem to teach us a single thing
I’ll admit I lie and I destroy
I’m the buzz of every fly

I’m pretty sure it gets worse
But I know that I’ve been wrong before

Sleeping in a bed of horsehair
Starving
Yeah we wanted it all
And we fall like ribbons
Who lust with a vague sense of purpose
Yeah we wanted it all
Unravel your tears onto my breast bone
Yeah we wanted it all

The sound of your own voice
Bleating out against the wind
The years they make no sense