Paroles Culver Palms (Or Why I Don't Believe In God) de Colorfinger

Textes et Paroles de Culver Palms (Or Why I Don't Believe In God)

I heard the truth about you and it doesn't really read at all like the whipping stick you raised me with. A scared woman in a private hell. Hushed voice like electric bell. Strange talk about Edgar Cayce and the long lame walk of the dark 70's. I heard the truth about you. Yeah, you. Mama they woke me up. I was deep in an idiot sleep. I was just 8 years old, I heard big words with a horrible sound. Mama they called my school, to tell me my mother had a nervous breakdown. I wish I believed like you do. Yeah, you. In the myth of a merciful God, in the myth of a heaven or hell. I hear the voices you hear sometimes. Sometimes it gets so much, I feel like letting go. Sometimes it gets so hard I feel like letting it go. Sometimes it gets so Goddamn hard I feel like letting it all go. I ran away, went looking for you back to Culver City and the old neighborhood. Need to know if you were really gone, need to know if you were gone for good. I ran through the projects at night, hide in the dark from my friends in the light. Hide from my brother-in-law, hide from the things he'd say. He said you weren't losing your mind, he said you just needed a rest. He said you'd be coming home soon, he said the doctors there would know what's best. He said that maybe I could go live with them for a while . . . I heard the truth about you. I heard the truth about you. I know the truth about you. I know the truth, I know the truth, I know the truth about you. Yeah, they woke me up. I was just 8 years old. Sometimes it gets so hard I feel like letting it go. Sometimes it gets so hard I feel like letting it all go.

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