freakbait - crime passionnel كلمات الأغنية
she shaved her p_ssy hair
a little triangle
she hasn’t done that
in at least 10 years
he comes home drunk
every night now
that’s his life now
after fifteen beers
cradled safe and soft
amniotic sac
marinate in sweat
and cheap perfume
turn the tv off
so he won’t see her face
that gunpowder scent
won’t leave the room
ain’t a d_mn day passed
without a tear shed
(or at least a drop of sweat)
maybe a second glass
can wash the bitter taste
that dumb look off his face
(or at least get him trashed)
and now she’s lost the plot
of her own story
she hasn’t been this way
since her salad days
he’s just a broken clock
but he can hold his mud
no she won’t see a thing
on his pallid face
like an old scarecrow
shouldering ravens
exhausted and vacant
silhouette in fog
grayscale photographs
blurry from the shakes
delerium tremens and
fear of getting caught
ain’t a d_mn day passed
without a tear shed
(or at least a drop of sweat)
maybe a second glass
can wash the bitter taste
that dumb look off his face
(or at least get him trashed)
gospel radio
the distant static drowned
by droning bald tires
on rain mirrored streets
past one last landmark
a cl_stered group of trees
if they’ll still be there
remains to be seen
beneath the sediment
settled in the bed
within the crevices
a barrel exhumed
that fitful metronome
it counts his steps from home
but one day it’ll cease
maybe some day soon
ain’t a d_mn day passed
without a tear shed
(or at least a drop of sweat)
maybe a second glass
can wash the bitter taste
that dumb look off his face
(or at least get him trashed)
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