Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Faint Heart, artist - The Birthday Party. Album song Hee Haw, in the genre Альтернатива
Date of issue: 17.07.1983
Record label: 4AD
Song language: English
Faint Heart |
With my face drained of colour |
And my brain of blood |
Like Billy Budd |
I’m lashed to the grating; |
With senses growing duller |
And with quaking heart |
I make a start |
At temperature equating |
And my lungs suck useless air |
Like paraplegic dancers |
In formation team |
My understanding seems |
Hiidebound in its movements |
Contemplating answers |
That could break my bonds-- |
To be half wrong |
Would be, in me, improvement… |
But my comprehensive faculties are impaired |
And it seems absurd, but now all I’ve heard |
Fades in empty words and is worthless |
As the Human Laugh rocks the cenotaph |
But the joke is half-true, and mirthless |
Trying to trace a reason |
From the spinning words |
But all I’ve heard |
Seem at odds with their meanings |
Phonetically pleasing |
But delivered in such haste |
That in their place |
My mind commences screaming |
On the verge of belief I crash onto the reef |
And a cynical thief steals my senses |
So I cling to the pew with dimensions askew |
And recognition refuses present tenses |
All the lives of the saints demonstrate that my faint |
Is a minor complaint, but the end is |
Nowhere in sight |
Why can’t I find me a way to go? |
I don’t want to die in the nave |
But I know it may be with me some day |
So I’ve got to find a way I can save up |
My evergies, and find a cause to pray |
So something for something |
To which I can give my creed… |
I’d gladly succumb to the wave |
If I thought the water taught a way to light; |
I’d gladly succumb--I'm not brave |
And it’s easy to believe what the preacher says |
Except for the conflict raging between my head |
And my brain |
I don’t want to die, but just the same-- |
Some day… |
Waiting for that moment |
That I know will come |
When I’ll have to run |
And find another sermon… |
Everyman and Norman |
And the talking priest-- |
Still, I am at least |
Holding all the doors open |
Inside me all outside is shared |
As the cracked bells peal it all seems unreal |
But the seventh seal stays unbroken |
And the Offertory plate tenders no escape-- |
Still I refuse to scrape up a token |
Of esteem for these false |
Alleyways of the course; |
I must try to divorce sense from sensing |
Tell me again |
Tell me the way to go |
So when I talk to myself |
Although I take good care to listen |
My heart grows ever more faint-- |
There’s something missing? |