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

Ses


Arayüz


Zorluk seviyesi


Aksan



arayüz dili

tr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Çerez politikası   |   Destek   |   FAQ
1
Kayıt Giriş
Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

5$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

10$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

20$

Lyrkit

Ve/veya beni sosyal medyada destekleyin. ağlar:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Tindersticks

Untitled

 

Untitled


Nothing came under
The rays remained in the sun that day
And life isn't full of surprises
You think you could steal in
Pop over the wall in the middle of the night
Climb out of those heavy boots and clothes
And into that cool blue
You're not even dipping your toe
I find this bed too big now
It's like those people you see on the way to work
Stuck in an endless queue of traffic
Each one in their own individual car
Half of them coming from the same place
Going to the same place
Going nowhere
They could quarter the amount of cars by sharing a lift
Go on the bus, wipe out all the cars
I should rid myself of this bed, get myself a cardboard box
No waste of space
No force of empty wasted space for your body to create it's dent in
I miss your back
You're back, how are you?
What are you up to? getting on okay?
Fuck off

Eighteen months ago they moved in here
The scrap metal dealer to one side
And divorced violinist to the other
Each morning we'd wake to the same chorus

Of cookers and fridges being dragged on their sides across the concrete
Accompanied by ravel's bolero
At first this was the best sound we'd ever heard

Hammer a six inch nail into my right ear
Shove a red hot poker up my nose
Make me walk on hot coals and broken glass
Gouge out my eyes with a cocktail stick
Rip my fingernails off
The pain would be so much easier than doing nothing to me at all

It was that dream again, when I was on the table
There was bright lights, and laurence olivier out of 'the marathon man' staring down at me
As they unbuttoned my coat and unravelled my sweater
And the shirt and the vest peeled
And said "did something die in here?"

So, whose bed you been sleeping in then?
Some poncey arsehole I'll bet
I can see you there
And it fucking hurts
God, I want to buy you bagels and cream cheese for breakfast
Run down the corner shop without my undies or socks on
Make some fresh coffee, hop back into your warm bed
And have those chats I miss so much
Another coffee? cigarette?
Fancy going to the pub later
God, it's good to see you
You always cheer me up

Tamamlandı

Bu şarkıdaki tüm yabancı kelimeleri eklediniz mi?