Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Little Comets

His Thunder

 

His Thunder

(album: Worry - 2011)


I'm a mat and I still retain
Accumulated stories of the tawdry years
I've been stamped out by rum-fuelled boots
The brute, us hiding under stairs.
Waiting for his thunder to hit
Waiting for his thunder and thinking is this it?
Waiting for his thunder to shout
Waiting for his thunder to tire itself out.
So I lie flat, in sheets worn thin
By his sublimations that reside within
For I'm the truth, the two in ten
That suffer at the whims of the weakest men.
Waiting for his thunder…
Each bruise I use as a chronicle of all that you gave me now
And every scar a reminder of the power that you had
The saddest part about the darkest hours
The implication that the fault was ours.
Waiting for his thunder…

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?