Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bitter Suite, artist - Fish. Album song Farewell To Childhood, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 04.04.2017
Record label: Derek W Dick
Song language: English
Bitter Suite |
A spider wanders aimlessly within the warmth of a shadow |
Not the regal creature of border caves |
But the poor, misguided, directionless familiar of some obscure Scottish poet |
The mist crawls from the canal |
Like some primordial phantom of romance |
To curl, under a cascade of neon pollen |
While I sit tied to the phone like an expectant father |
Your carnation will rot in a vase |
A train sleeps in a siding |
The driver guzzles another can of lager, lager |
To wash away the memories of a Friday night down at the club |
She was a wallflower at sixteen, she’ll be a wallflower at thirty four |
Her mother called her beautiful |
Her daddy said, «a whore» |
The sky was bible black in Lyon, when I met the Magdalene |
She was paralyzed in a streetlight |
She refused to give her name |
And a ring of violet bruises |
They were pinned upon her arm |
Two hundred francs for sanctuary and she led me by the hand |
To a room of dancing shadows where all the heartache disappears |
And from glowing tongues of candles I heard her whisper in my ear |
'J'entend ton coeur', 'j'entend ton coeur' |
I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart |
Hear your heart |
I hear your heart |
It’s getting late, for scribbling and scratching on the paper |
Something’s gonna give under this pressure, and the cracks are already |
beginning to show |
It’s too late |
The weekend career girl never boarded the plane |
They said this could never happen again |
Oh, so wrong, so wrong |
This time it seems to be another misplaced rendezvous |
This time, it’s looking like another misplaced rendezvous |
With you |
The parallel of you, you |
On the outskirts of nowhere |
On the ringroad to somewhere |
On the verge of indecision |
I’ll always take the roundabout way |
Waiting on the rain |
For I was born with a habit, from a sign |
The habit of a windswept thumb, and the sign of the rain |
Rain on me, rain |
It’s started raining |