| These mountains make me crazy
|
| My legs can’t seem to stand
|
| «And I’ll be leaving in the morning with or without you» she said
|
| If I’m breaking what I’m building
|
| I’ve ripped out every single stone
|
| And you can break my soul or bones girl but you can’t destroy my home
|
| No you can’t destroy my home
|
| If the street lights they all flicker
|
| Just like candles in the street
|
| I will give my soul to strangers and let the bastards sell it cheap
|
| I’ve seen girls out on the street, lord
|
| Men drunk on the boulevard
|
| The kings all know my face lord and the jokers pulled my card
|
| Oh, the jokers pulled my card
|
| They say that that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
|
| And I should be pretty strong or so it seems
|
| Cause I almost died a thousand times
|
| Oh, death it follows me
|
| I guess that’s what separates us gods from kings
|
| We will plant our dead in boxes
|
| And pray to god that something grows
|
| Leave the widow on her knees, Boys
|
| Dressed in black with empty hopes
|
| The children’s screams are crazy
|
| Their eyes are blacked out from the smoke
|
| I can spare my bread and water, but I cannot spare my coat
|
| No, I cannot spare my coat
|
| Don’t damn my imagination
|
| Cause my dreams are all I have
|
| Well In the day its damp and dirty
|
| But when I sleep it’s not that bad
|
| Dirty hands they cling to boxcars
|
| Tender tears stain frozen cheeks
|
| We’re all searching for salvation but we won’t find it in these streets
|
| We won’t find it in these streets
|
| They say that that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
|
| And I should be pretty strong or so it seems
|
| Cause I almost died a thousand times
|
| Oh, death it follows me
|
| I guess that’s what separates us gods from kings
|
| Everybody lives for something
|
| I guess I must live to think
|
| You can have my thoughts at half the cost
|
| Because I think they’re killing me
|
| The tree lines weave through fields
|
| Giant serpents of the south
|
| I’ve seen the sun set on the ocean
|
| I’ve seen the daylight drown itself
|
| Poets drink their whiskey
|
| They point out problems in our lives
|
| Well you will never read his notebooks
|
| He won’t be famous till he dies
|
| Well without our hearts we’re nothing
|
| And without our spines we’re weak
|
| You can pump my blood or hold me up but that still want make me free
|
| No that still won’t make me free |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mountains Make Me Crazy , by - The Weeks. Song from the album Gutter Gaunt Gangster, in the genre Иностранный рок