Paroles The Story... de Burning Mona Lisa

Burning Mona Lisa
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  • Artiste: Burning Mona Lisa11882
  • Chanson: The Story...
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(The Story Of How I Had It Good And F*cked It All Up By Getting Involved With) W de Burning Mona Lisa

You write songs for a living, it's just what you doI write songs to keep living, without them, I'm throughYou keep the royalties and I'll just keep scoreOf discoveries I've made while death's at the doorBeen...

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Still in my heart After all these years Separated by time And now by distance I couldn't allow myself to feel The loss that I feel right now As I put this song down You're far away And happy...

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Yeah miss you.. Tonight I feel so cold and lonely And baby you're so far away The space between us keeps on growing How I wish that you could hear me when I say no no no no no no no wish you hear me saying no...

Textes et Paroles de The Story...




You write songs for a living, it's just what you doI write songs to keep living, without them, I'm throughYou keep the royalties and I'll just keep scoreOf discoveries I've made while death's at the doorBeen blinded by anger and learned quite a bitBeen crippled with sadness, enough to forfeitSeen joy a few times, and found where it's fromBut all I feel now is pure confusionAt the bare bedrock where my feet touched groundI couldn't feel comfort, couldn't see or hear soundI built a shelter with ashes of hopeAnd tied down the tent stakes to the end of my ropeOf course when I finished, I stepped back for a lookIt appears I've built hell here, in heaven's last nookThe strength that I've gathered is no currencyThe merchants of this world only barter with sanityLooks like the end is never quite hereBut I've galvanized me with sorrow and fearAnd now the war's over, you've thrown down your gunsWhere armies once stood, there stands only oneMy armor's just rusting and gathering dustI spent my life savings on this useless crutchMy legs were just fine, just tired was allBut now that I know, I've nowhere to walkAt the bare bedrock where my feet touched groundI couldn't feel comfort, couldn't see or hear soundI built a shelter with ashes of hopeAnd tied down the tent stakes to the end of my ropeOf course when I finished, I stepped back for a lookIt appears I've built hell here, in heaven's last nookThe strength that I've gathered is no currencyThe merchants of this world only barter with sanityI miss nursery rhymesand nap timesAnd rides on the busI miss snowballsAnd roll callsAnd gas for a buckI miss recess And lunchtimeI miss walking homeI missmoviesAnd doobiesAnd drinking PatronI miss boyscoutsAnd cartoonsAnd skating all dayI miss the good timesWhen all weCould do was go playI miss sleepingAnd laughingAnd getting new shoesI miss ClintonAnd JesusBut most of allI miss you

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