Pitchers Of Silence lyrics translation: SAGE FRANCIS Pitchers Of Silence song texte and letras SAGE FRANCIS Pitchers Of Silence tab, paroles and testo SAGE FRANCIS Pitchers Of Silence Karaoke and Music Video - none yet
i never held a funeral for that big part of me that died.
i need to put these thoughts to rest. i need to find a peace of mind.
i need to piece my mind, find a piece of mind to rest in.
need to find someone to confide in, and with the rest i need to start restin`.
needless to say, i couldn`t hide.
fifteen grown men shouldn`t cry.
had i known then what i know now.
had i thought now what i knew then...
i might still be human
with all the little stupid fix-ins.
as i fix sins and vixens vick souls,
stitch clothes for the characters they play then switch roles.
nail me to the cross dress.
the holy cloth costs less.
i`d toss less
if i still had your soft breasts to rest my head on.
since you`ve been gone,
i recalled my issues with problems and hate
but i can`t exactly remember the model or make.
now glass bottles break in my death grip.
i`m about to take the next quick exit and end this head trip.
my bed`s stripped of its blankets, comforters, pillows and sheets,
but i might have to peel off all my skin to remove your scent in order to sleep.
i had my highs and lows.
when on top, i let you peek out over my nose.
sitting on my shoulders and i suppose if i had a backbone,
you might still be here.
my skin is filthy...
from my lows when you weren`t there. but to keep from feeling guilty,
i collected the dirt (collected the dirt)...kept it piling up.
now mr. feel nothing saves his tears inside of a cup
and he drinks (and he drinks). and he forgets that he`s an asshole.
jealous of his ghosts and doubts he even has a soul.
my secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping.
i`m a ghost writer for the horrorcore lyrics my personal monsters sing.
i`m sitting in a stranger`s tub...
with all my clothes on...shivering...considering the dangers of love.
they get half of what i have to give...if that.
it`s all about the packaging. they`re distracted by the gift rap.
predictable. easy to manipulate.
they`re foreshadow puppets and i`m waiting for their strings to break.
the pillars that once held up my halfway house have been taken out.
i`m in my last days now.
there`s a change coming soon.
i just want to crawl back into my mother`s womb.
i need a comfort zone,
but obviously i need to find another home
to call my own...and always return to
and i want it to be you (i want it to be you).
i sit and stare, zone out, think a lot and never sleep,
creating memories to remember and then i forget to eat.
went to the street you used to live on, staring at the bedroom window of your old home
with puppy eyes...waiting for god to throw me a bone.
i`d settle for one more goodbye kiss while i settle for less.
i`m unsettled at best. sulking while abandoning settlements.
insulting my companions intelligence...conversing with baby talk.
practicing mind games. rehearsing with playful thought.
it`s the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold,
when you made me walk through rain and mud puddles on a dirt road.
it left me so messy,
forget me...not.