The Brave Little Abacus все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

I'm on the phone while I'm driving, take my hand off of these wheels to keep my legs from shaking, moving to the crashing of cymbals, growing into themes, near to "mesmerize", but never right on time. You say that you mean it this time more? Last time turned to nothing, this I'm sure, but I've been wrong before, and how this feels, and how Liz sings "I won't decorate my love" has got me thinking, it's got me dreaming of imaginary times on an imaginary couch listening to imaginary records and with imaginary mouths saying "boy, this is it," "this must be it". Please, can't this just be it.

Hat of greens shows symmetry. In front of hat, alone, sits me. Fourth day, I don't want, in anyway, to be reliving. It won't be that bad again because this can't amount in comparison. "I should intimidate you as you should intimidate yourself!" Thirty minutes of make-up for all to see but you___are not what I want you to be. (Universal): there, at three a.m. on the first of a year, when it started, I'm not sure, in a jumper, with a bracelet on your right wrist that turns with a golden knob, opening amidst a "dense yellow light, fading to reveal an infinite sky," and "juxtaposed to the accelerating swell of the musical score, pushes its audience to realize just what is ahead, the characters' fear and the physical manifestation of their hopes and dreams coming closer and closer." Kiss me. My dad says things that make me laugh, he meows Tom Petty songs and that is why I stay, unlike running water, I can't run away, there are more here than merely bodies, things without fear of surrounding me, branches to catch me falling, perhaps someone who understands that when I say I'm sad I mean it, that there is no excuse "I need this". What I said about "hat of greens" has led me to see that my superimposition of a face upon a poster on its way, arriving any day, that will accompany me every night in a welcoming of rest, tacked on to the drywall surrounding me will probably return me to this "fading," the sky being a bedroom, "kiss me". "But I don't want to."

I want it to be (selfishly) how I want it: one human, read my cue, cue tears, cue the followed dance around it, because then we can scream. I might as well just scream. Emily, you don't have to play. You are not her and he is not me and what I said about Christmas trees made me believe there were two of me and one of them would've said "Hannah" way before now.

Night slows me down and puts me off, totter-scatter-blabbering. Sort of funny that you would make a stop-action short, because I sort of (think I) pretend that I'm next to your progressing form as you move from shot to shot, I mean, I'm next to you on the streets of a city that I never really thought I'd move in to, that I never even really saw myself moving in. But now, I'm in the way of this other me that's just trying to say, sort of funny that you're moving on along these streets you happen to now live on.
It's these ideas that waste all my time. It's these ideas that waste all my time.
Okay, so honesty didn't do anything for me once again, but it did the night that I said to Rob that I could not "keep my opinions to myself" for any longer, but that could've just been another one of my blah blah blahs.