Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Beyond The End, artist - Ceschi. Album song Broken Bone Ballads, in the genre Альтернатива
Date of issue: 06.04.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Fake Four Music (ASCAP)
Song language: English
Beyond The End |
Winter froze our crooked fingers into praying hands |
At a January funeral for a sweet faced man |
When we pulled black suits out of closets once again |
And squeezed our fatter bodies into them |
To carry a casket through a catholic parade |
Full of tissues and condolences |
Till a priest spoke your name |
In a mundane way he prayed |
Claiming you were in a better place |
I’m not convinced but hope that it’s the case |
When springtime arrives and melts away the snow around your grave |
I’ll still remember you in 10th grade |
With a teenage smirk |
Disc-man works of Richard D. James |
That image will stay burnt onto my brain |
I’ll miss you like our younger days |
We’ll miss you like our younger days |
Before grays started showing our age |
Attempting to love life as much as you did |
Won’t remember you painted in a box |
Not a cliché at a wake |
Not a tear drop |
Not a cliché |
Not a tear drop |
Not a cliché |
Not a tear drop |
You are forever |
Mother’s house is covered in your photographs |
Every angle of your face |
Every age |
Every hair style phase |
And we puffy eyed droogs |
Huddle in her memorial gallery |
For the first of our gang to pass beyond the galaxy |
Tangled in uncomfortable laughs |
Masking the cracks in speaking voices |
Unable to come to terms with the fact that you won’t be back |
As much as we dream of reviving you |
Right now we don’t know how to react |
Or where to find you |
We’d fight for you |
We’d break bones |
Bite through stone |
And punch holes directly into the depths of the unknown |
Till our fists turned bloody red |
But today we’re sitting in silence |
Without a life to defend |
Lost without our friend |
And I’m at a loss for words… |
Searching for a thousand more ways to say that |
«Life is cruel and absurd» |
That «it wasn’t your turn» |
But you’re buried in dirt |
While I’m still walking this earth |
Disgusted by the fucking world |
If this is how it works |
Battling with faith |
And it’s hard to say if I’ll see you again |
Not sure what I believe in the end |
But I’m at least confident |
That I’ll catch glimpses of you in contours of your sister’s face |
Or your fiancées gaze upon any mention of your name |
You visited during prison bunk visions |
So lucid and vivid |
That it almost convinced me |
For minutes |
That you were still living |
But now I’m wide awake and a cynic |
Chewing on birthday cake and been livid |
Wishing that I could write a song to bring back the dead and fix all things |
wicked |
But I better leave this selfishness and let you rest |
See you again at the peak of Connecticut fall |
When leaves turn red |
Or within that San Francisco fog |
So thick it can blanket the bridges |
And cover our damages |
I’ll see you again |
Within the serenity of |
Atlanta magnolias |
My friend |
Though I dreamt of fixing all wrongs… |
Unclogging lungs from blood clots… |
Sometimes we’re forced to stop |
And appreciate moments we all got |
So I’ll shut my mouth at last |
Surrender myself to the chaos |
It’ll all go by so fast |
Beyond the end |
Love you Rob |