| This place is down, it’s up to see
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| Got some mysteries out with
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| It’s a question of pride, forget you not
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| Take me four leaf clover with
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| I see your face etched in stain glass, angelic
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| Meant that as measurement
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| Angelic, fuck you can’t spell it
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| Close to the heaven when coppin' that droppin flu
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| Particular like Bob Dylan’s talkin' crew
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| It’s all pros when shootin'
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| That’s your speech impediment
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| Talk in little circles, codes
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| Until you can gel it, and keep 'em distant
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| 'til you collide with
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| People, places, villains, keep persistent
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| Gotta keep the curvage convincing
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| Got you sayin' smoking regrets
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| Clingin' to an empty lighter
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| Burn up all your cigarettes
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| The tar’ll stay inside your lungs
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| Pull tighter
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| It’s got me sickly, give me time, love, trust
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| And a bouquet and forgive me quickly
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| So I’m-I'm pullin' petals like
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| She loves me not, she loves me not
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| She loves me not enough to stop herself
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| We like it awkward hot
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| I’m thinkin' stop, thinkin' thoughts
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| Like this clock’s tickin', plot thickens
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| When she drops a kiss, I pick it up
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| Like «Hey, I think you lost this, miss»
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| Got me wishin'
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| But to you, our silent speech was tongue n' cheek
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| Makin' true feelings hard to reach from toe n' cheek
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| From high intensity to barely touch, to barely speak
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| Speak, please speak, say somethin' monumental
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| Pretend your- Pretend your kindest words were accidental
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| Pretend I’m dead, I’ll do the same for you
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| In fact, lets make a toast to us, infatuation with a ghost
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| This place is down, it’s up to see
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| left us thinkin'
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| were blind
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| Compromising
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| It’s never a crime, what’s to say?
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| Choose wise, damned is the fool
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| Who’s battery burns to long to be cool
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| So take it in stride, so you can
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| You’ll be damned to repeat it |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Slint , by - P.O.S. Song from the album Never Better, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп