Paroles Astigmatism de Astronautalis

Astronautalis
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  • Artiste: Astronautalis21020
  • Chanson: Astigmatism
  • Langue:

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Textes et Paroles de Astigmatism




A little kid turns the corner, quick on his feedMy vision's no good no more; he's just a smudge in the streetThe colors blur in my eyes just like ink in the rainThe city soaked in its light is slowly washing awayEverything is just a background, waiting to take shape and appearInside my windshield eyes with Vaseline tearsMuffled chuckles and leaky ceilingsHazy coffee stains, collectible keyringsA scrapbook of snapshots taken in shaky concealmentI never trusted my love and her wallpaper feelingsThere was something so comforting about her uncertain armsThere's beauty in danger, there is safety in harmA five dollar psychic offers bargain predictionsConnecting my murdering a mantis to my moderate afflictionOnce when I was a child I ran to my door upon grabbing the knobI crushed the prostrate bug inside of my palmI watched his little green frame fall from my hand(I guess his prayers were never answered by God, He'd got the upper hand)Struck blind over time inside flashes in stepsWe all pay for our sins in the most subtle respectsHow quick we forget, how fast the past is washed awayDiluted in music, TV, and the talk of the dayHow slick a little kiss can get her bony hips to block the wayLend the world your ears and they'll just sweet nothing it all awayYou made your bed nowYou must sleepUnderneath the sheetsThere's something inside this house, footsteps by the couchIt's all shade and shadows tracking the suspect silence downIt's not the sounds we make, it's all the noises we never hearOld cliches on attraction, raindrops after the weather clearsTapping fingers for living; counting out the notesThe door ticks when it sits and rattles when clicked closedTwelve lines, one in the light switch, a chip in the globeThe radiator is always breathing like teeth clenched and lips floatIt's more than I bargained for, but nothing I can't handleI learned to listen for the kitchen, hear dust fall on the mantleEverything is done in inches, fingertips, and little skillsNothing is done quickly except tying shoes and electric billsThe relentless drills, constant repetition, the daily grind,Same set of pants put on one leg at a timeEvery moment is filled with breath and the rest is just fineI never forget my mistakes but sometimes I forget I'm blind

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