A Holiday At The Sea - текст песни
A Holiday At The Sea
I looked down at my shoes, because I felt the drip of blood fall from my hammer to the leather through my socks. The k Nots kept tightening their grip. The cords (chords) ring out the history, and time is a mocker as a remedy. The preacher wore a suit, I knew he would. The tiny print rice paper books, I hated how they saw me so transparently. This heart, my thread, I tried so hard. The best that I could sew was death, no matter how I covered it with deeds. What's there left to do? Because the mud only covers up the stains… who could imagine a holiday at the sea? Down there, in the sea, I should hold my breath 'til this other person's blood is washing off of me. Down there, in the sea, I should hold my breath 'til this other person's blood is washing over me.
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