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Low
Low


Информация
Откуда Duluth, Minnesota, United States
Жанры Indie Rock
Slowcore
Годы 1993—н.в.
Лейблы Sub Pop
Kranky Records
Сайт Website
Состав
Alan Sparhawk
Mimi Parker
Steve Garrington
Бывшие участники
John Nichols
Zak Sally
Matt Livingston



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  L  →  Low  →  Дискография  →  Drums And Guns

Альбом Low


Drums And Guns (2007)
2007
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. . .


All soldiers
They're all gonna die
And all the little babies
They're all gonna die
All the poets
And all the liars
And all you pretty people
You're all gonna die

. . .


To my mouth
Frozen shut
Mother's son
Paper cut
Belarus
Belarus
Belarus
Belarus

Pressing wine
Brighter sun
Black and white
Fading on
Belarus
Belarus
Belarus
Belarus

. . .


Our bodies break
And the blood just spills and spills
But here we sit debating that

It's just a shame
My hand just kills and kills
There's gotta be an end to that

There's gotta be an end to that

. . .


We took our pills
It changed the world
We had our fill
But when we realized
That we were dragonflies
We knew we had to try
To find a way to get more pills
Maybe you're right
Maybe you're right
Oh dragonfly
Your thousand eyes
What do they see?
The lights of history
Some things should never be
Why do we even try?
There's no such thing
As dragonfly pills
Maybe you're right
Maybe you're right
Oh dragonfly
Maybe you're right

. . .


Where would you go if the gun fell in your hands?
Home to the kids or to sympathetic friends?
Oh sandinista, oh sandinista
Oh sandinista, take my side

Deep through the clouds hear them marching up slowly
Fresh with the blood of your father so holy
Oh sandinista, oh sandinista
Oh sandinista, take my side

. . .


Come clean and off with your head
The streams of bright rosy red
Your heart will do the rest
And you'll always fade
You'll always fade
Someday you'll change
But you'll always fade

Cut free the weight on your neck
The screams, the clutching of breast
So sorry about the mess
But you'll always fade
You'll always fade
Someday you'll change
But you'll always fade

. . .


Dust on the window
Sun's darkened angle
Write your initials with mine
By this time tomorrow
I'll be just one day closer
One sunset further behind
In the morning I'll make up my mind

Always a whisper
Worthless and tender
Breaking my arm that won't heal
Lie like a shadow
Breath on my pillow
Won't let me keep what I steal
Tell me where can a girl get a meal?

. . .


you be my charlie
and i can be your george
let's bury the hatchet like
the beatles and the stones

they'll play our songs forever
on the radio
let's bury the hatchet like
the beatles
the beatles and the stones

i know you've got a thing
for ordinary guys
but i've heard your records and
they sound a lot like mine

so you be my mary ann
and i'll be your yoko
and let's bury the hatchet like
the beatles
the beatles and the stones
like the beatles
the beatles and the stones

. . .


I've spent a lot of time
Good people
Trying to make it rhyme
Good people
It gave my mind a little place to hide
If you don't like my lines
Good people
You better open wide
Good people
Call the chief, it has become my belief that your tongue is the weapon
You cut what you reap with your poison
Your poison
Your poison
Your poison

. . .


so she waits on the edges of a mattress
what it takes to get a bad mess out of a bad dress
when she sings it's like a blue dove on a whipping post
when she speaks she thanks the good lord for the holy ghost

take your time sweet thing
take your time sweet thing

take your time sweet thing
take your time sweet thing

. . .


They put the treasure deep inside us
Inside us, inside us
They thought the desert would divide us
Divide us, divide us
With silence

They filled our hearts and hands with violence
With violence, with violence
It's time to leave the fields behind us
Behind us, behind us
In silence

. . .


One more thing before I go
One more thing I'll ask you Lord
You may need a murderer
Someone to do your dirty work

Don't act so innocent
I've seen you pound your fist into the earth
And I've read your book
It seems that you could use another fool
Well I'm cruel
And I look right through

You must have more important things to do
So if you need a murderer
Someone to do your dirty work

. . .


All I can do is fight
Even if I know you're right
All I can do is fight
Pretty fingers, holding fast
Maybe it's your violent past
Maybe it's your violent past

All you can do is hide
God bless the darkness of the night
All you can do is hide
Pretty fingers, the golden calf
Maybe it's your violent past
Maybe it's your violent past

Maybe it's the violent path
Maybe it's your violent past
Maybe it's the violent path
Maybe it's your violent past

. . .


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