Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Blind Curve, 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
Blind Curve |
Last night you said I was cold, untouchable |
A lonely piece of action from another town |
I just want to be free, I’m happy to be lonely |
Can’t you stay away? |
Just leave me alone with my thoughts |
Just a runaway, just a runaway, I’m saving myself |
Strung out below a necklace of carnival lights |
Cold moan, held on the crest of the night |
I’m too tired to fight |
So now we’re passing strangers, at single tables |
Still trying to get over, still trying to write love songs for passing strangers |
All those passing strangers |
And the twinkling lies, all those twinkling lies |
Sparkle with the wet ink on the paper |
Oh I remember Toronto when Mylo went down |
And we sat and we cried on the phone |
I never felt so alone |
He was the first of our own |
Some of us go down in a blaze of obscurity |
Some of us go down in a haze of publicity |
The price of infamy, the edge of insanity |
Another Holiday Inn, another temporary home |
And an interviewer threatened me with a microphone |
'talk to me, won’t you tell me your stories. |
' |
So I talked about conscience and I talked about pain |
And he looked out the window and it started to rain |
I thought maybe I’ve already gone crazy |
So I reached for a bottle and he reached for the door |
And I picked up the sleeping pills crushed on the floor |
Inviting me to a casual obscenity |
It would be incredible if we could retrace all the times that we lived here |
All the collisions |
Wasted, I’ve never been so wasted |
I’ve never been this far out before |
Perimeter walk |
There’s a presence here |
I feel could have been ancient, I could have been mystical |
There’s a presence |
A childhood, my childhood |
My childhood, childhood |
A misplaced childhood |
My childhood, a misplaced childhood |
Give it back to me, give it back to me |
A childhood, that childhood, that childhood, that childhood, that childhood |
Oh please give it back to me |
I saw a war widow in a launderette |
Washing the memories from her husband’s clothes |
She had medals pinned to a threadbare greatcoat |
A lump in her throat with cemetery eyes |
I see convoys curbcrawling West German autobahns |
Trying to pick up a war |
They’re going to even the score |
Oh… I can’t take any more |
I see black flags on factories |
Soup ladles poised on the lips of the poor |
I see children with vacant stares, destined for rape in the alleyways |
Does anybody care, I can’t take any more! |
Should we say goodbye? |
Hey |
I see priests, politicians? |
The heroes in black plastic body-bags under nations' flags |
I see children pleading with outstretched hands, drenched in napalm, |
this is no Vietnam |
I can’t take any more, should we say goodbye |
How can we justify? |
They call us civilised! |