Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Edward Benz, 27 Times, artist - La Dispute. Album song Wildlife, in the genre Пост-хардкор
Date of issue: 03.10.2011
Record label: No Sleep
Song language: English
Edward Benz, 27 Times |
I heard the old man’s voice break |
Stutter once then stop it |
I heard a sentence started confidently |
Halted by the sudden absence of a word |
Stumbled and he sputtered trying to find it back |
Something once so simple, gone now |
When he finally gave up, told me: |
«Aw, it’s like hell getting old» |
When you came into the store |
Did you know you’d show me your scars? |
I had a heavy heart, he carried a door |
Its shattered pane all wrapped in plastic |
And he asked if I could fix it |
Come by a little later, help him put it back on hinges |
«See, I’m far too old to lift it, and it’s not for my house |
It’s my son’s» |
When you opened up the door |
What is it you thought you’d find? |
(Nobody flinch) |
Later I came by and backed into the driveway |
Got out to find him waiting there |
To lead me through the side yard to |
Back behind the house where the doorframe stood empty |
And helped me keep it steady while I hammered all the pins in |
Then, later on the porch we somehow got to talking |
He told me of the house and how his son is schizophrenic |
So they purchased it for him |
The medication working and they figured |
It would help him fit in — help him lead a normal life |
But the pills made him sleep too much |
And he couldn’t keep a job as a result |
So, one day, he just gave up on taking them |
And that day she had called you |
He’d locked her outside of the house |
How quickly did you get there? |
And what were you thinking while walking up? |
What fears flashed in front of you, taunted you |
Walking to unlock the door? |
I remember it, Ed, that story you told me |
Came back clear tonight, here while writing |
And you should know the feeling never left me |
The weight of my heart, when you showed me the scars on your arms |
When I looked in your eyes and I heard what you said |
How you probably would’ve died were it not |
For to care for your daughter and wife |
How he drove in the knife, still your son |
How you seemed to look through me to some old projector screen |
Playing back the scene as you described it on a movie reel |
As real as the minute when it happened |
That memory moving behind me |
That moment that changed you for good |
And he drove to the house and pulled into the driveway |
Got out to find his wife waiting, frantic |
She’d come by to check, found that pillbox was empty |
Went out to the pharmacy to fill up his prescription |
And came back to a locked door and could not get back in She’d knocked and |
she’d knocked but he wasn’t responding |
You put the key into the lock and turned it |
Felt the bolt slide away, slowly open |
Went into the hall, his son held a knife |
Standing off in the shadows, lunged forward and tackled him |
Stabbing him over and over and breaking that window |
He fled up the staircase |
The ambulance came, stitched and filled him with blood |
While the cops took his son with his wires so tangled |
His father was a stranger |
And I sit in my apartment |
I’m getting no answers |
I’m finding no peace, no release from the anger |
I leave it at arms length |
I’m keeping my distance from hotels and Jesus and blood on the carpet |
I’m stomaching nothing |
I’m reaching for no one |
I’m leaving this city and I’m headed out to nowhere |
I carry your image |
Your grandfather’s coffin |
And Ed, if you hear me, I think of you often |
That’s all I can offer |
That’s all that I know how to give |