Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bottle Dreams, artist - Oliver Hart.
Date of issue: 31.01.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Bottle Dreams |
Everyone knew she was a special young girl |
From her neighbors to her teachers |
Some labeled her a prodigy, others called her a genius |
It was amazing the way she could play the violin |
It made it hard for people to believe that she only ten |
But behind every brilliant mind there lies a monster |
This one just so happened to be her father |
See daddy was sick, he’d get a rush by playin touchy touch |
And tellin her to keep it hush |
It was his seceret way of loving that he needed someone he could trust |
Fucked her head up, sayin if Momma was alive she’d be so proud of us So she’d hide the desire to die |
But if you paid close attention you could see the sorrow in her eyes |
Walking around in the only real hell |
No one would ever think she’d have such a story to tell |
Afraid to go home, afraid to talk, afraid of cryin |
She was too young to even know why |
And everyday she’d go to the river with a message in a bottle sayin |
'Please, God help me I don’t wanna live to see tommarow' |
Each day she’d scrounge for a tiny shread of hope |
Just to wish the bottle would stay afloat |
But every single solitary day, the bottle seems to sink |
I don’t know why but the bottle always sinks |
She never sees it happen, but the bottle always sinks |
Now only the bottom of the river knows what she really thinks |
She made that violin sing with so much pain |
You could almost hear her scream through the strange vibrations |
What was once sweet and innocent |
Is now riding with the phsychotic father |
Chose to probe the flowers of the pure and sacred |
Her instrument was a rolly tongue |
To express the infinite abuse in it’s depths |
At night the footsteps crept to her door and she’d begin to shake and weap |
And with tears rolling down her cheeks she’s pretend she was asleep |
When the nightmare was over, and the sun dawn is light |
She’d retreat to the same place she always did |
Rip a page from her diary, and write with all her might |
Then send it off into the current, determined to find a way to live |
Being a victim of her daddy’s hands for so long |
She lost the will to move on Sick of picking up her violin to hide from what’s wrong |
Exausted, but stayin strong |
She tried to play the bright side, but couldn’t bring herself to make |
nothing but sad songs |
Sick of that sick feeling that stays in her stomach |
Sick of waiting for a rescue by someone who found one of her bottles |
Sick of being daddy’s little seceret |
She got up at the crack of day and smashed her violin into pieces |
Then proceeded to walk towards the river with a plan |
Only this time the diarhea bottle was in her hand |
Just walk with herself, away from the hell |
Not no one at the river bottom liein in all the cries for help |
It was weeks before they found her dead body |
Some fisherman reeled it from the water |
like something from a detective novel |
Diagonosis: suicide, stemed from desperation |
Was near where she drowned they found about 500 messages in sunken bottles |