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Mark Lanegan

Skeletal History

 

Skeletal History

(album: Here Comes That Weird Chill - 2003)


Ohhh, an artery is not a vein
No history can tell
My skeleton won't tell
Why some like moths draw
To a surgeon's drill
And bloodshot hits to marrow

The snake's eaten through her clothes and
Her charms that won me over
DeGama breached this lofty reach
Balboa left his bones upon the beach
Left there to bleach

A rose breaks in my fingers
Pulling nickels through the stem too much has took its toll
Smoke crawls low along the ceilings
And all is quiet
But I keep listening
They come to kill me

Oh, she just left, you missed her
Go on home, the sex theater is closed
Cracked mouth, too dry to drink
At least the sand is cold
You wish the sea would drown the freeway

Instead, girls stare in dead-eyed wonder
They can't walk for fallen soldiers
Used by cops and fucked inside abandoned boarding houses
Go on fast before the beast catches the bastard
Dragging the chain down, down, down

Who'll say it
Tell me
No one else is here, come on
Nothing to believe is to be blessed, come on
Who's laying low, you said
Weather veins no bones to be
Good or bad, the death of me
Just make it quietly

Oh, who knows my sister
Can't anyone admit the fact that they infected her
She said the sun was gonna burn and blister
My blood
Godspeed
God
Love her
Farewell, honey
Yeah

No mourning son'll move her
No hellbent amen or hallelujah
Prayers are for the dead left over
The breached never to reach that sandy beach
Poor baby girl's gone under
To each their own grave buried in
Underneath abandoned boarding houses
Sidewalks and streets
Sidewalks and streets

Though my skeleton won't tell
Some could see
Why moths draw to surgeons' drills
And blood shots
Hit the marrow

Fatto

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