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nolto – 1:13pm, june 15, 2001 كلمات اغاني

[verse 1]
(i grow)
the sun’s smiling and the sky’s looking beautiful (weaker by cycles i die)
such terrible weather for a young girl’s funeral
the priest is talking about jesus and not about her
“where was jesus when the truck ran her life out, sir?”
to use her death as a podium to preach your faith is
ungodly and surely in poor taste
talk about a desire to k!ll the messenger
‘cause i couldn’t find god or anyone else you claim were friends with her

[verse 2]
(weaker by cycles i die, awww)
i don’t belong inside of a church, she don’t belong inside of a he-rs-
she died young and strong, now inside of the earth
they don’t belong, they weren’t her friends
it’s only now they recognize what she’s worth
i’m surprised at these jerks and now i’m too angry to cry
supervised and it hurts. this is how i handle her dying
and i’m frantically trying to cry, except my eyes keep candidly drying
antics aside, i should be no less than distraught
especially after all of the attention i’ve got (i grow)
but did i mention i’m not? (no)
and how i’m going to lie to my boss to get some time off?
it probably wouldn’t require much imagination (weaker by cycles i die)
not like when i think about her final destination
i bet it’s a lot like sleeping without dreaming
god, i wish these people were finally leaving
but they’re just gathering coats
and i’m put to work, so they keep handing me most
and i hand them to their respective guests, looking somber
her parents probably thinking about how i was dating their daughter

[verse 3]
(like a chainsaw, boring a hole in my brain, awww)
her parents pull me aside and ask me for an audience. i fully complied
yeah, it could be a lie, when they say they think of me as family
i should have replied that “i’m a member who’s glad to be”
but instead, i just nodded
while they say i should have their daughter’s college fund
and i feel all undone
but feel obligated to take it, because they ’cause they call me “son”
it’s like i profit from her death, and what an awkward little mess
there’s not a lot left except to walk into the sunset (i grow)
into eternal unrest, and all i can seem to do is wonder if it’s lunch yet
is this sh-t done yet? (weaker by cycles i die)

(like a chainsaw, boring a hole in my brain, awww)

- nolto

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