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urthboy - impossible story كلمات الأغنية

[chorus]
i could never tell you
the impossible story
words will never get close to
the colour of your mourning
you know that i am so sincere
but what is that helping?
i can’t be the author of a
story that is not mine to tell
make the f-ckers talk
standing in the flame of fire
fire
say it like it is
shout it like you’re in the fire
fire

[verse 1]
as angry and as urgent as a teen, i try to set
the scene, natural human instinct is to intervene
the same that cut the ones who dare to dream ‘cos sh-t is so
naive, are cutting down the very thing that the people need
‘cos everything is already been seen
and already been deemed to be agreed and disagreed
and it seems we’re first past the post st–z
in a post modern post truth world truth’s ghostly
for what it’s worth you can quote me and
i’m a lay it like an ied and trigger it remotely
no wonder these bars get banked with boasting
privilege does not necessarily mean you’re coasting
so keep a pin close to burst the bubble
of some earnest motherf-cker that has gone to the trouble
of being a grave digger digging the dead to life
there’s nothing to suggest that salvation will arrive
to remind me of it is so contrived. i don’t need
a broken record to bring me down off my high, i just need
these green eyes to roll back and sigh
as much as i wish that i had the answer why

[chorus]
make the f-ckers talk
standing in the flame of fire
fire
say it like it is
shout it like you’re in the fire
(fire) fire (fire)
i could never tell you
the impossible story
words will never get close to
the colour of your mourning
you know that i am so sincere
but what is that helping
i can’t be the author of a
story that is not mine to tell

[verse 2]
this is not the body that has grown out of a squalor
this is not the optimism born from living horror
the guilt could make a brother wanna lose a white collar
but uh he need it today he’ll give it up tomorra
the dirt under the fingernails was never the grains
that the bones had replaced in a rubbish tip grave
the sweat they wiped off when they put their knives away
is the same sweat we get when we dance the night away
and if i could turn the sun around and illuminate the h-ll
‘cos you best believe it can be found where humanity dwell
and i could write a book about a book that wouldn’t sell
be the author of a story that was never mine to tell but
where would that lead us? preach
to believers we’re needing relievers but
i am no teacher and you resent the grievance
but if i don’t at least try it’s like i deceived yaz
the story must be told, some narratives must
but it won’t be delivered by the man in the tux
nor will it be heard over the inner city folk
saying, “f-ck it all, f-ck it all, f-ck it all” for all 12 months ‘cos

[chorus]
i could never tell you
the impossible story
words will never get close to
the colour of your mourning
you know that i am so sincere
but what is that helping
i can’t be the author of a
story that is not mine to tell

- urthboy

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