الأغاني: Hey Rosetta. Swing The Cellar Door.
wait-wait-wait-
before you go i want you to know
all that you were and the sound that you made when you moved
before you leave i need you to see
all that you mean, you would hardly believe it
sitting in the kitchen wondering how it is i'll tell you this
when the phone rings, so i start right in then:
we are shells or instruments, inside there's sound that speaks to us
if you listen, and i've been listening
and i'm sorry to reduce you to this useless imagistic bullshit
but maybe that's all i've got
maybe that's all i've got
sorry to confuse you with some foolish thing that misses truth
but maybe that's all we are
around a brightly dying star
these spiralled shells, so sexual, could out-reveal the texts we dwell upon,
or maybe not, but certainly
a sound that's free can open me and easily
just rip my heart out, and start me shouting:
this is how i feel... listen
i'm sorry to reduce you to this useless imagistic bullshit
but maybe that's all i've got
maybe that's all i've got
sorry to abuse you with this ruthlessly sadistic music
but maybe that's all i want
(i'm just a really pretentious guy)
but wait! wait! wait! wait! wait! wait!
before you go, i want you to know
all that you were, and the sound that you made when you moved
before you leave, i need you to see
all that you mean, you would hardly believe it
you would hardly believe it...
if i could just speak it...
but this is how i feel...
before you go i want you to know
all that you were and the sound that you made when you moved
before you leave i need you to see
all that you mean, you would hardly believe it
sitting in the kitchen wondering how it is i'll tell you this
when the phone rings, so i start right in then:
we are shells or instruments, inside there's sound that speaks to us
if you listen, and i've been listening
and i'm sorry to reduce you to this useless imagistic bullshit
but maybe that's all i've got
maybe that's all i've got
sorry to confuse you with some foolish thing that misses truth
but maybe that's all we are
around a brightly dying star
these spiralled shells, so sexual, could out-reveal the texts we dwell upon,
or maybe not, but certainly
a sound that's free can open me and easily
just rip my heart out, and start me shouting:
this is how i feel... listen
i'm sorry to reduce you to this useless imagistic bullshit
but maybe that's all i've got
maybe that's all i've got
sorry to abuse you with this ruthlessly sadistic music
but maybe that's all i want
(i'm just a really pretentious guy)
but wait! wait! wait! wait! wait! wait!
before you go, i want you to know
all that you were, and the sound that you made when you moved
before you leave, i need you to see
all that you mean, you would hardly believe it
you would hardly believe it...
if i could just speak it...
but this is how i feel...
Hey Rosetta
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