Из альбома: The Storms of Early Summer: Semantics of Song
Since I wrote this am I the culprit
These useless wisdoms I dispense
At your expense
Picture postcards
A three minute essay
Some scribbled words to four line verse
Meanwhile, we mean well
We cannot escalate or escape this
So let's pretend our little songs are more than songs
More like sermons
Attention, attention
That's all we're asking for
Our little songs are our little whores
Jukebox cupids -- and the medium's a trend
The music lends itself to it -- to itself
The lyrics bend to make the song
Attention, attention
Don't tell me that's all we're writing for
Picture postcards
Three minute essays
We can never fit in what we want to say