Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wild Eyes, artist - Mariee Sioux. Album song Faces in the Rocks, in the genre Альтернатива
Date of issue: 31.03.2013
Record label: GRASS ROOTS
Song language: English
Wild Eyes |
Tiny darling ghost holder |
Tiny darling ghost holder |
You, our soft spirit breather |
And you, our bark-skinned weaver |
Remember you could weep fire |
Remember you could weep fire |
Remember you could weep fire with wild eyes |
With wild eyes, ooo those wild eyes |
If you ring your cells like bells in a garden |
You plant your burdens way deep down in |
And water them daily from wells of salty guilt |
For sons who’d pollinate the deadly |
That wild eye, ooo that wild eye |
Papa, my pine whistler sparrow-eyed sun misser |
Papa, my pine whistler sparrow-eyed moon blisser |
Mama, my jaw clencher spirit mouth ghost dancer |
Mama, my vein braider thousand-year bone burner |
Mama, my tongue twister thousand-pronged antlers |
Mama, my tongue twister thousand-pronged antlers |
Mama, my vein braider thousand-pronged antlers, antlers |
And ooo her wild eyes, ooo her wild eyes |
So I will ring my cells like bells |
As you bind your father’s molecules with roots of silver |
Pierce him cedars with eyes like fingers |
Picking bloody flowers |
His wild eyes, ooo his wild eyes |
Papa, my pine whistler sparrow-eyed sun misser |
Papa, my pine whistler sparrow-eyed moon blisser |
Mama, my jaw clencher spirit mouth ghost dancer |
Mama, my vein braider thousand-year bone burner |
Mama, my tongue twister thousand-pronged antlers |
Mama, my tongue twister thousand-pronged antlers |
Mama, my vein braider thousand-pronged antlers, antlers |
Ooo her wild eyes, ooo her wild eyes |
Tiny green moss collector |
Sweet tiny green moss collector |
Remember you could catch fire |
Remember you could catch fire |
Remember you could catch fire with wild eyes |
With wild eyes, ooo those wild eyes |
And once the river is rolling lower |
We’ll gather lichen from the boulders |
We’ll keep it dry inside our lockets |
We’ll put this down down into our pockets |
We’ll try try to leave the branch arms behind |
The swaying hands of pines |
Their needles tugging at your skin |
Trying to pull you back deep |
In their wooden womb of a hundred hearts |
Hanging, suspended, moth-eaten |
Those muscles the size of your fist |
All floating around your head |
Not knowing who they’re a-loving |
Not knowing how fast they’re a-pumping |
Not knowing how hard they’re a-beating |
Not knowing who they’re a-punching |
Those muscles the size of your fist |
All floating around your head |
And throwing punches like we throw the stones |
To the bottom of riverbeds |
Who knows who is next? |
To watch from under the currents |
The rapids rapidly raging while rapid |
While we’re rapidly blinking |
Our wild, wild, our wild |
Our wild, our wild eyes |