Periphery — Marigold
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Текст Periphery — Marigold
Latched to this life like a death-grip
We’re satisfied with the mundane and keeping out of sight
But still we are young
I’ll stare the angels down,
keep them in the back room,
shut the door and let go
Now we stare at the grave cold and paralyzed
Pushing daisies while we still feel the sunshine
We are young
Slip through the marigolds and please our damaged souls
This place is holding me
Jump through the rope, let’s make it credible
When blood is all we see, life is impossible
Death is coming ‘round like a hurricane swirling
We’re on the clock and the needle is turning
The misery is killing me slowly
Give me a spine to work it out
You’re just another one wandering aimlessly until the grave
The signs of the times are upon us all
We’re bleeding for tomorrow
Sucking on the mother’s dead tit of sorrow
It’s alright, we’ll learn it all before we go
Snapped by the neck as we follow
Chin up, now tighten the rope
Leave it all hollow
This place is holding me
Jump through the rope, let’s make it credible
When blood is all we see, life is impossible
Death is coming ‘round like a hurricane swirling
We’re on the clock and the needle is turning fast
The misery is killing me slowly
Give me a spine to work it out
No funeral
No pyre left burning
This body is dust in the wind that’s hurling past
The misery is killing me slowly
Give me a spine to work it out
If I were the devil, I would promote an attitude of loving things and using people, instead of the other way around
I would make it legal to take the life of the unborn
Make it socially acceptable to take one’s own life, and invent machines to make it more convenient
I would attack the family, the backbone of any nation
I would come up with drugs that sedate the mind and target the young, and I would get sports heroes to advertise them.
I guess I will just leave things the way they are!
This place is holding me (This place is holding me)
Jump through the rope, let’s make it credible (Credible)
When blood is all we see, life is impossible
Death is coming ’round like a hurricane swirling
We’re on the clock and the needle’s turning
The misery’s killing me slowly
Give me a spine to work it out.
Death is coming ‘round like a hurricane swirling
We’re on the clock and the needle is turning fast
The misery is killing me slowly
Give me a spine to work it out
No funeral
No pyre left burning
This body is dust in the wind that’s hurling past
The misery is killing me slowly
Give me a spine to work it out
