GLOCCA MORRA LYRICS

"Circus Underwater"

I was found just motionless, arranged from parts I've often loved. I re-invest my stock in spirit, how it proves that I exist. All the west was won in hours – how can I compare to that? Your heart is gold but some were callous. I decide what's right for me. I will revel in my hometown, watch your fingers as they float, grow a garden for my best friends, keep the kittens safe but not too close. I was raised on Kansas farmland – all my cousins had two horses. Knowing how much you admired all their beauty and their splendor, I requested one so you could have one of your own. And though technically we both know you can own nothing at all in this life there were some legalities involving all the shit that we've pulled. But I was feeling way too good to really give a fuck at all. I've been told that peace of mind can go a long away but there's something comforting about keeping it a cluttered mess but when the mess is cleared, there will be a line and it will stretch for miles. It's the renaissance, it's the crying kids who only wanted attention from their mothers but they masked it with requests for candy and a pretty necklace that they found while waiting in line. The mothers all look down and say, "You know I love you, honey, but this is just a waste." Now I'm a connoisseur of all the dirt and shame that I can stand to taste. I feel you move. Now I can't seem to touch what's inside my head. I just want to get so stoned and follow you to bed. You are pretty in this kind of stolen way. I am all tied up in a parlor game and it goes like this, it floats like this, it sinks like this, and it dies like this. I wither aloud in my amaranthine maze. It's lasted this long, it won't dare to go away. Where all my colors run deep and intersect into shapes of items we once found in alleys where we thought we'd go insane. I was happy with my progress. All my friends were standing there. But I remember back in Kansas, pretty concerns myself – blank stare. Oh, the things I left out – I'm sure you know. Oh, my brain - it hurts my brain. I'm tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired.

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Punk Lyrics | G | GLOCCA MORRA