Paroles de la chanson To Death's Heart (In Three Parts) par Bright Eyes
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Paroles de la chanson To Death's Heart (In Three Parts) par Bright Eyes
[Part I: Benedicente]
Didn't hallucinate, it wasn't strange
Inside the lines I drew, been staying in my lane
Wasn't assigned to me, I'm not to blame
Brown bottles of Jameson, grey ashes in a tray I put out
Got cancer sick, got on a plane
Visited the Vatican to watch the pontiff wave
And he say, “Benedicente, benedicente, benedicente"
On a long hot Sunday
[Part II: Agotante]
Didn't hallucinate, it wasn't strange
Inside the lines I drew, been staying in my lane
Wasn't assigned to me, I'm not to blame
Brown bottles of Jameson, grey ashes in a tray I put out
Got cancer sick, got on a plane
Visited the Vatican to watch the pontiff wave
And he say, “Benedicente, benedicente, benedicente"
On a long hot Sunday
[Part II: Agotante]
Got to get out of here, I can't remain
Limbs, they hang like chandeliers from alcohol and age
Down in the weeds again, tough to explain
Mattress soaked in gasoline makes iridescent flames; I lay down
I'll ask my love, what will she say?
What's it like to live with me here every fucking day?
But she stays; “Agotante, agotante, agotante”
In her most gentle way
Still think of New York every time
I see your face now, it just feels like another life
I'm up late with an imaginary pain
Always did come in waves
All that's constant is that change
[Part III: Éphémère]
Just grab the kids real quick, can't start the car
Fading like a photograph, your taillights in the dark
There's nothing left no more to tear apart
Agonies are infinite and sympathies just aren't; they run out
I've seen that void, tried not to stare
I'm up late with an imaginary pain
Always did come in waves
All that's constant is that change
[Part III: Éphémère]
Just grab the kids real quick, can't start the car
Fading like a photograph, your taillights in the dark
There's nothing left no more to tear apart
Agonies are infinite and sympathies just aren't; they run out
I've seen that void, tried not to stare
There's bodies in the Bataclan, there's music in the air
And they sing, “Éphémère, éphémère, éphémère…”
And “Wish You Were Here”
Enough blood to fill up this fish bowl
Keep swimming around
The exit's blocked, there's nowhere to go
All these same fears, year after year
All the old ones reappear
Only difference is you're not here
And they sing, “Éphémère, éphémère, éphémère…”
And “Wish You Were Here”
Enough blood to fill up this fish bowl
Keep swimming around
The exit's blocked, there's nowhere to go
All these same fears, year after year
All the old ones reappear
Only difference is you're not here
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