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clouddead - bike (2) كلمات الأغنية

why?:
edison, i’ve fixed my glasses like new!

dose one:
wishing coins well, off into the bad sleep well
why?:
reaching to quiet the man made of metal and brick

dose one:
sleeping in woman’s clothes, naked walls filling my eyes

why?:
kneading the knotted, cramped muscles; the head of a nut

dose one:
holding my place in a necklace collection, whala!

why?:
scr_ping the hardened, dead mortar from under my nails

dose one:
weeding out sounding like movies, why i’d rather read

why?:
sparring the volunteer flower, the beautiful guest
dose one:
greetings, my god given name is adam in love

why?:
edison, i’ve fixed my glasses like new!

dose one:
wishing coins well, off into the bad sleep well

dose one, why?:
de, sha, vu. cats, clipped, whiskers, x

dose one:
dear jon
she’s no longer calling, and the sun just keeps coming up
why?:
dear adam
i’m dropping out of art school
i’m thinking of becoming a machete man in the rainforest

dose one:
my box is made, the pills erect, it’s one cut cookie syndrome
the pill that’s huge and swallows other pills
it’s jar bottom right below me, and not a spot of cork above
why can i barely see exactly where the loop is marked?
it cuts in, i cut out, pidagurpidagle says h_llo
and hunts the pilot light within the heater monolith she prays to
why?:
art museums make me want to k!ll myself
i understand now why pidagurpidagle pulls on the door
even when she knows it’s locked shut
people surround themselves with pets
to deny the fact that they’re alone, most of the time
“stop the world, i want off.”
_easy axess

chorus:
are you scared the album will end before the doorbell rings
and you’ll be left to greet your guests
with a tied tongue, cold lunch, and spent wick candle?
dose one:
looking for an explanation everywhere except in
as i stuff my face from dirty pot
and greasy spoon, and sweaty peas, and b___ered rice
and the water’s running. i think ribs like rosebush branches
flies in eyes, the corners of, and sally struthers don’t be depressed
i’ve made it to the mystery of mona lisa’s mouth

why?:
the streets smell like beer and exhaust this christmas
don’t be depressed, but no one wants to rent movies
to an out_of_towner without a credit card
i did nothing today, but walk a blind man to his bus stop
chorus

dose one, why?:
as the floor boards creek and the pipes ping and pong beneath you…

dose one, why?:
mother nature made the aeroplane, and the submarine sandwich
with the steady hands and dead eye of a remarkable sculptor
she shed her mountain turning training wheels
for the convenience of the moving sidewalk
that delivers the magnetic monkey children
through the mouth of impossible calendar clock
into the devil’s manhole cauldron
physics of a bicycle, isn’t it remarkable?

- clouddead

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