30/01/2018

Sad-ness Vs. -less

ironie d'une heure qui n'arrive jamais

malgré le temps perdu à l'attendre.

fragile.jpg

Cette chanson pour tuer le temps qu'il faut pour l'entendre et attendre qu'elle se termine, qu'elle reprenne.
"There's a look of hunger in a women with heat,
It's enough to lift an old man from his knees.
Like the piece of a puzzle he's been looking for,
He was leaning to dying, now he's coming back for more.
The look of a women when she gets you alone,
You can't see what's coming but there's blood in your bones,
There's power in your pocket and ships in your sea,
It doesn't often happen, but it happened to me.
Then she goes back to her man,
Back to her man,
Back to, back to, her man.
There's a look of war in the way that you go,
But the lead in your arrow is loose, don't you know?
But whatever you got, you lost in the game,
Of picking your own pockets for someone to blame.
There may be nothing above the arc of love,
Depending on who you're dreaming of.
You can't escape when it feels like rape,
But who's raping who?

Then she goes back to her man,
Back to her man,
Back to, back to, her man.
She don't love him
(Back to her man)
She don't love him no more
(Back to her man)
She don't love him, love him
(Back to, back to, her man)
She don't love him no more
She don't love him
(She goes back to her man)
She don't love him no more
(Back to her man)
She don't love him, love him"
(Back to, back to her man)

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