Şarkıya Göre: A, B, C-Ç, D, E, F, G, H, I-İ, J, K, L, M, N, O-Ö, P, R, S, T, U-Ü, V, Y, Z...
Şarkıcıya Göre: A, B, C-Ç, D, E, F, G, H, I-İ, J, K, L, M, N, O-Ö, P, R, S, T, U-Ü, V, Y, Z...
Şarkıcıya Göre: A, B, C-Ç, D, E, F, G, H, I-İ, J, K, L, M, N, O-Ö, P, R, S, T, U-Ü, V, Y, Z...
Thought Industry - Jane Whitfield Is Dead
Şarkı Adı: Jane Whitfield Is Dead
Söyleyen: Thought Industry - Tüm Şarkıları »
Puan: 0.0 (0 kişi oyladı)
Görüntüleme: 508
Söyleyen: Thought Industry - Tüm Şarkıları »
Puan: 0.0 (0 kişi oyladı)
Görüntüleme: 508
[I) July 10th, 1993]
Jane's clenched legs writhe. Soot dress dance flannel
sheets. Inane lush that can't decide, but I'm snared
here. I wake flustered in her bedroom that I can't
escape. I weep here's something that can never change.
This marriage is make believe. Cook slop meal; and
sew t-shirt; and wash my plate; and make bunk bed. I
never asked these things, because Jane's now dead.
Jane's found dead, long dead. Left me to this lonely bed.
Hoard of locust mad.
[II) September 17th, 1995]
Jane floats down the aisle. Voluptuous cream
wedding dress. Family and friends tight smiles. Razor
near. "I do," and I promise on the bottle lover's grave.
She sighs, "our timeless loyalty is branded change."
This marriage is make believe. Mow front lawn; and
wash sports car; and cut slab wood; and pain garage;
but we're not a sexist pair. Because Jane's now dead.
Because Jane's been dead. Because Jane's found dead,
long dead. Stranded to this frigid bed. Pacific bottom
sad.
I'll mourn her softly
[III) May 3rd, 2043]
A-frame by Winchester stream. Trimmed hedge
with daisies. Fields. Stained plank ceder fence. My
gramps' ponies. She'll shit a brick. I bet. Our house to
raise a family. She'll shit. I bet. We'll grow old
together. Snail slow and ancient gray. Racquetball on
tuesday morning. Playing eucker. Sipping tea; and
watch the sun die from our rocking chairs. We'll gum
sweet oatmeal holding dishpan hands. She'll shit a
brick. I bet. To watch our children married. She'll shit.
I bet. To see us when we're ninety, sleeping in on church
sunday. Playing our dated CD's that we bought in my
twenties.
[IV) January 25th, 2051]
This marriage is make believe. Now I'm crying on
her body as she passed away without me, and left me this
bitter old man; because Jane's now dead, because Jane's
been dead. Because Jane's found dead. My wife's now
dead. My wife's found dead. Jane's left dead.
Jane's clenched legs writhe. Soot dress dance flannel
sheets. Inane lush that can't decide, but I'm snared
here. I wake flustered in her bedroom that I can't
escape. I weep here's something that can never change.
This marriage is make believe. Cook slop meal; and
sew t-shirt; and wash my plate; and make bunk bed. I
never asked these things, because Jane's now dead.
Jane's found dead, long dead. Left me to this lonely bed.
Hoard of locust mad.
[II) September 17th, 1995]
Jane floats down the aisle. Voluptuous cream
wedding dress. Family and friends tight smiles. Razor
near. "I do," and I promise on the bottle lover's grave.
She sighs, "our timeless loyalty is branded change."
This marriage is make believe. Mow front lawn; and
wash sports car; and cut slab wood; and pain garage;
but we're not a sexist pair. Because Jane's now dead.
Because Jane's been dead. Because Jane's found dead,
long dead. Stranded to this frigid bed. Pacific bottom
sad.
I'll mourn her softly
[III) May 3rd, 2043]
A-frame by Winchester stream. Trimmed hedge
with daisies. Fields. Stained plank ceder fence. My
gramps' ponies. She'll shit a brick. I bet. Our house to
raise a family. She'll shit. I bet. We'll grow old
together. Snail slow and ancient gray. Racquetball on
tuesday morning. Playing eucker. Sipping tea; and
watch the sun die from our rocking chairs. We'll gum
sweet oatmeal holding dishpan hands. She'll shit a
brick. I bet. To watch our children married. She'll shit.
I bet. To see us when we're ninety, sleeping in on church
sunday. Playing our dated CD's that we bought in my
twenties.
[IV) January 25th, 2051]
This marriage is make believe. Now I'm crying on
her body as she passed away without me, and left me this
bitter old man; because Jane's now dead, because Jane's
been dead. Because Jane's found dead. My wife's now
dead. My wife's found dead. Jane's left dead.
Yorumlar
Hiç Yorum Gönderilmemiş!
Thought Industry Şarkıları
Bedava MP3 Download, MP3 indir, Ücretsiz MP3, Dangerous MP3, Dangerous MP3 kelimeleriyle sitemize gelenler için uyarıdır. Sitemizde hiçbir MP3 bulunmamaktadır! Lütfen sanata ve sanatçıya saygı için korsan müziğe hayır! Internetten mp3 yüklemek yerine onların kaset ve cd'lerini alarak destek olalım.