Paroles Bottle Dreams de Eyedea And Abilities

Textes et Paroles de Bottle Dreams

Everyone knew she was a special young girlFrom her neighbors to her teachersSome labeled her a prodigy, others called her a geniusIt was amazing the way she could play the violinIt made it hard for people to believe that she only tenBut behind every brilliant mind there lies a monsterThis one just so happened to be her fatherSee daddy was sick, he'd get a rush by playin touchy touchAnd tellin her to keep it hushIt was his seceret way of loving that he needed someone he could trustFucked her head up, sayin if Momma was alive she'd be so proud of usSo she'd hide the desire to dieBut if you paid close attention you could see the sorrow in her eyesWalking around in the only real hellNo one would ever think she'd have such a story to tellAfraid to go home, afraid to talk, afraid of cryinShe was too young to even know why[Chorus] And everyday she'd go to the river with a message in a bottle sayin'Please, God help me I don't wanna live to see tommarow'Each day she'd scrounge for a tiny shread of hopeJust to wish the bottle would stay afloatBut every single solitary day, the bottle seems to sinkI don't know why but the bottle always sinksShe never sees it happen, but the bottle always sinksNow only the bottom of the river knows what she really thinksShe made that violin sing with so much painYou could almost hear her scream through the strange vibrationsWhat was once sweet and innocentIs now riding with the phsychotic fatherChose to probe the flowers of the pure and sacredHer instrument was a rolly tongueTo express the infinite abuse in it's depthsAt night the footsteps crept to her door andshe'd begin to shake and weapAnd with tears rolling down her cheeks she's pretend she was asleepWhen the nightmare was over, and the sun dawn is lightShe'd retreat to the same place she always didRip a page from her diary, and write with all her mightThen send it off into the current, determined to find a way to live[Chorus] Being a victim of her daddy's hands for so longShe lost the will to move onSick of picking up her violin to hide from what's wrongExausted, but stayin strongShe tried to play the bright side, but couldn't bring herself to makenothing but sad songsSick of that sick feeling that stays in her stomachSick of waiting for a rescue by someone who found one of her bottlesSick of being daddy's little seceretShe got up at the crack of day and smashed her violin into piecesThen proceeded to walk towards the river with a planOnly this time the diary and bottle was in her handJust walk with herself, away from the hellNot knowing at the river bottom lied all the cries for helpIt was weeks before they found her dead bodySome fisherman reeled it from the waterlike something from a detective novelDiagonosis: suicide, stemed from desperationWas near where she drowned they found about500 messages in sunken bottles

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