Paroles de la chanson Small Flowers Crack Concrete par Sonic Youth
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Paroles de la chanson Small Flowers Crack Concrete par Sonic Youth
[Narration]
Small flowers crack concrete
Narcotic squads sweep through poet dens
Spilling coffee
Grabbing 15 your old runaway girls
By frazzled ponytailed hair
And tossing them into backseats of cop cars
The narcs beat the bearded oracles
Replacing Tantric love
With complete violence
Lights and mirrors dot the city
Inkstained hippies with boxed lunch and marijuana
Mystery plays of shit and nothingness
Blessed by colors from a black hat
Small flowers crack concrete
Narcotic squads sweep through poet dens
Spilling coffee
Grabbing 15 your old runaway girls
By frazzled ponytailed hair
And tossing them into backseats of cop cars
The narcs beat the bearded oracles
Replacing Tantric love
With complete violence
Lights and mirrors dot the city
Inkstained hippies with boxed lunch and marijuana
Mystery plays of shit and nothingness
Blessed by colors from a black hat
Blue lights search through weeds
Searching for the heart of D.A. Levy
And the mind he left behind
What did you expect?
Another mystic wreck?
That's what you got crawling
Inside your panic net
What did you bring me?
Not a goddamn thing yet
And what did you leave me?
Another tombstone dream, yeah
O salacious mansion
The boys held for ransom
Did you see where he's gone?
The blasted summers dawn
Fucked up in Cleveland
Searching for the heart of D.A. Levy
And the mind he left behind
What did you expect?
Another mystic wreck?
That's what you got crawling
Inside your panic net
What did you bring me?
Not a goddamn thing yet
And what did you leave me?
Another tombstone dream, yeah
O salacious mansion
The boys held for ransom
Did you see where he's gone?
The blasted summers dawn
Fucked up in Cleveland
Fucked up in Cleveland
Short flight to nothing
Heaven's up to something
Heaven's up to something
Levy's up to something
Levy's up to something
[Narration]
Death poems for the living gods of America
Plastic saxophones bleat
Bleed for nothing, nada
Cops crashing through doors infuriated by silver charms of suburban smoke
At war
With patches of red dirt glitter
And blue-jean fucking
And protest
Short flight to nothing
Heaven's up to something
Heaven's up to something
Levy's up to something
Levy's up to something
[Narration]
Death poems for the living gods of America
Plastic saxophones bleat
Bleed for nothing, nada
Cops crashing through doors infuriated by silver charms of suburban smoke
At war
With patches of red dirt glitter
And blue-jean fucking
And protest
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