歌曲 | Starling |
歌手 | Brave Saint Saturn |
专辑 | Best of IVM II |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
Filthy bird laying in our yard | |
four chambered heart never beat so hard | |
Dad said she was almost gone, | |
upside down out on our lawn. | |
And I could hold her in a shoe box, | |
if she heals she could be mine. | |
And if I cannot save her spirit, | |
dad says I should break her spine. | |
Shaking, brilliant, silver-black wings, | |
Jesus Christ, what prayers these tears sing. | |
Wear your hearts out on your sleeves for | |
starlings... starlings. | |
Of the least of all of these, | |
are starlings... starlings. | |
Two years pass, I pumped the chamber, | |
full of air to shoot the birds. | |
Harmless game to hit them slightly, | |
to scare them off, in other words. | |
Starling falling to her death, | |
piercing copper steals her breath. | |
See the flutter in her breast, starving babies in her nest. | |
Raise their souls up to the sky, | |
why must helpless creatures die? | |
Every breath has sacred weight, | |
every life has some design. | |
Can we kill and also save, | |
speak of life, | |
while digging graves? |
Filthy bird laying in our yard | |
four chambered heart never beat so hard | |
Dad said she was almost gone, | |
upside down out on our lawn. | |
And I could hold her in a shoe box, | |
if she heals she could be mine. | |
And if I cannot save her spirit, | |
dad says I should break her spine. | |
Shaking, brilliant, silverblack wings, | |
Jesus Christ, what prayers these tears sing. | |
Wear your hearts out on your sleeves for | |
starlings... starlings. | |
Of the least of all of these, | |
are starlings... starlings. | |
Two years pass, I pumped the chamber, | |
full of air to shoot the birds. | |
Harmless game to hit them slightly, | |
to scare them off, in other words. | |
Starling falling to her death, | |
piercing copper steals her breath. | |
See the flutter in her breast, starving babies in her nest. | |
Raise their souls up to the sky, | |
why must helpless creatures die? | |
Every breath has sacred weight, | |
every life has some design. | |
Can we kill and also save, | |
speak of life, | |
while digging graves? |
Filthy bird laying in our yard | |
four chambered heart never beat so hard | |
Dad said she was almost gone, | |
upside down out on our lawn. | |
And I could hold her in a shoe box, | |
if she heals she could be mine. | |
And if I cannot save her spirit, | |
dad says I should break her spine. | |
Shaking, brilliant, silverblack wings, | |
Jesus Christ, what prayers these tears sing. | |
Wear your hearts out on your sleeves for | |
starlings... starlings. | |
Of the least of all of these, | |
are starlings... starlings. | |
Two years pass, I pumped the chamber, | |
full of air to shoot the birds. | |
Harmless game to hit them slightly, | |
to scare them off, in other words. | |
Starling falling to her death, | |
piercing copper steals her breath. | |
See the flutter in her breast, starving babies in her nest. | |
Raise their souls up to the sky, | |
why must helpless creatures die? | |
Every breath has sacred weight, | |
every life has some design. | |
Can we kill and also save, | |
speak of life, | |
while digging graves? |