Letra da Música Spring Break 1899 de Murder By Death
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The sun is comin' up over the hill...
Or maybe it's not, I can't even tell.
But there's a warmth on my face that isn't the blood,
and my tears turnin' the snow into mud.
And I can't feel my left leg,
but I think it's still there.
Did I kill anybody?
Hell, I never fight fare.
What state am I in?
Am I still on the run?
Has it really been so long since I've seen the sun?
My instincts are tellin' me to pick up and go,
but I can't feel my fingers,
and I can't move my toes.
There's a drained bourbon bottle layin' next to my head,
and the piss and vomit are the sheets in my bed.
Is it you?
Could it be you?
Don't want it to.
I went out all night drinking,
so I took the bait;
And I jumped off the interstate to Highway 8;
To the bars full of girls who all know me by name.
They all drink the same drinks,
they all fuck the same.
So now my eyes are turnin' red in this hotel bar,
and she's breathin' out smoke as she motions towards the door.
The kindness of a stranger,
or a trick of the trade?
God knows I'm not the first mistake that she's made.
Is it you?
Could it be you?
Don't want it to.
Is it you?
Could it be you?
Don't want it to.
I been down and out.
I been spit on for so long.
I stored my shame in my belly,
'til i needed to be strong.
In my last guilty moment;
Stole a map and a truck.
It's pure chance that I haven't
already been picked up.
But from here on the slate's clean.
I'm headin' way south.
Always heard the girls were pretty there,
I got to find out.
Look ma, your son's a travelin' man.
I don't know what I did,
now on I'll do all the good I can...
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Or maybe it's not, I can't even tell.
But there's a warmth on my face that isn't the blood,
and my tears turnin' the snow into mud.
And I can't feel my left leg,
but I think it's still there.
Did I kill anybody?
Hell, I never fight fare.
What state am I in?
Am I still on the run?
Has it really been so long since I've seen the sun?
My instincts are tellin' me to pick up and go,
but I can't feel my fingers,
and I can't move my toes.
There's a drained bourbon bottle layin' next to my head,
and the piss and vomit are the sheets in my bed.
Is it you?
Could it be you?
Don't want it to.
I went out all night drinking,
so I took the bait;
And I jumped off the interstate to Highway 8;
To the bars full of girls who all know me by name.
They all drink the same drinks,
they all fuck the same.
So now my eyes are turnin' red in this hotel bar,
and she's breathin' out smoke as she motions towards the door.
The kindness of a stranger,
or a trick of the trade?
God knows I'm not the first mistake that she's made.
Is it you?
Could it be you?
Don't want it to.
Is it you?
Could it be you?
Don't want it to.
I been down and out.
I been spit on for so long.
I stored my shame in my belly,
'til i needed to be strong.
In my last guilty moment;
Stole a map and a truck.
It's pure chance that I haven't
already been picked up.
But from here on the slate's clean.
I'm headin' way south.
Always heard the girls were pretty there,
I got to find out.
Look ma, your son's a travelin' man.
I don't know what I did,
now on I'll do all the good I can...
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
Could it be you?
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Ficha Técnica da Música Spring Break 1899
| Número de Palavras | 297 |
| Número de Letras | 1759 |
| Intérprete | Murder By Death |
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