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David Bazan




Альбом David Bazan


Curse Your Branches (01.09.2009)
01.09.2009
1.
Hard to Be
2.
3.
Please Baby, Please
4.
5.
6.
7.
Lost My Shape
8.
Bearing Witness
9.
Heavy Breath
10.
. . .

Hard to Be

[Нет текста]

. . .


God bless the man who stumbles
God bless the man who falls
God bless the man who yields to temptation

God bless the woman who suffers
God bless the woman who weeps
God bless the children trying her patience

Trouble getting over it is what youґre in
for so pour yourself another
ґcause itґll take a steady pair of hands

Holy or unholy ghost
Well now I canґt tell but either way you cut it
You should get some distance if you plan
To take a stand

God bless the house divided
God bless the weeds in the wheat
God bless the lamp lit under a bushel

I discovered hell to be the poison in the well
so I tried to warn the others of the curse
But then my body turned on me
I dreamt that for eternity
My family would burn
Then I awoke with a wicked thirst

instrumental break

By my babyґs yellow bed
I kissed to forehead and rubbed her little tummy
wondering if sheґd soon despise the smell
of the booze on my breath like her mom
through a darkened mirror I have seen
my own reflection
and it makes me want to be a better man
after another drink.

God bless the man at the crossroads
God bless the woman who still canґt sleep
God bless the history that doesnґt repeat.

. . .

Please Baby, Please

[Нет текста]

. . .


Red and orange, or blue and yellow
In which of these do you believe?
If you're not sure right now,
Please take a moment
I need your signature before you leave

When I sleep, I'm usually dreaming
But more and more, it's only one
Where every hired gun I've ever fired
Is making love to you while I look on

Oh, falling leaves should curse their branches
For not letting them decide where they should fall
And not letting them refuse to fall at all

In my throat, there swells a darkness
It fills my mouth, and coats my lips
And even as the threat of Hell is disappearing,
The threat of losing you is blowing up

Oh, falling leaves should curse their branches
For not letting them decide where they should fall
And not letting them refuse to fall at all

. . .


They might have burned
But the priests were out taking turns
Showing nuns what they had discerned about their bodies,
In the dark
They carried on,
from the evening until the dawn
Like they should have been all along
Making harmless sparks
Instead of breaking little boys hearts

God knows, if you noticed the millions of small holes
And ponder the weight of an apple
Compared to the trouble we're in
Then some grown men might,
be tempted to question their birthright
In front of their kids and devout wives
Causing the doubt to begin, to
Spread like original sin

. . .


With the threat of hell hanging over my head like a halo
I was made to believe in a couple of beautiful truths
That eventually had thee effect of completely unraveling
The powerful curse put on me by you

When you set the table
When you chose the scale
Did you write a riddle that you knew they would fail
Did you make them tremble
So they would tell the tale
Did you push us when we fell

If my mother cries when I tell her what I discovered
Then I hope she remembers she taught me to fallow my heart
And if you bully her like you done me with fear of damnation
Then I hope she can see you
for what you are

When you set the table
When you chose the scale
Did you write a riddle that you knew they would fail
Did you make them tremble
So they would tell the tale
Did you push us when we fell

What am I afraid of?
Who did I betray?
In what mid-evil kingdom does justice work that way?
If you knew what would happen
And you made us just the same
Then you my Lord can take the blame

. . .

Lost My Shape

[Нет текста]

. . .

Bearing Witness

[Нет текста]

. . .

Heavy Breath

[Нет текста]

. . .


My body bangs and twitches
The tequila whets my tongue
My fingers find the stitches
Firmly back and forth they run
I need no other memory
Of the bits of me I left
When all this lethal drinking
Is to hopefully forget about you

I might as well admit it
Like I even have a choice
The crew have killed the captain
But they still can hear his voice
A shadow on the water
A whisper in the wind
On long walks with my daughter
Who is lately full of questions about you

When Job asked you a question,
You answered, "Who are you?"
That sounds a bit defensive
Did you just bite off more than you could chew

. . .


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