STORM AND A SPRING | Chonny Jash скачать в хорошем качестве

STORM AND A SPRING | Chonny Jash

merry [day_25]! no, the title isn't a typo --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- LYRICS: One time, I tried to sing about… I don’t know, but it was nothing fucking new. Yet another platitude. “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, bla-blah blah” is all they heard. Oh, you thought they were listening? Now, don’t be absurd. All the rain comes down the same, but not a drop can stake its claim. Down they pour, with millions more, to the floor with no name. I’m sure you really sang your Heart out, or I’m sure that’s how it seemed. But you and I both know so well, now that looks can be deceiving. ‘Cos “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, bla-blah blah” is so overdone. For a man cloaked in daylight, you sure hate the sun. When the tears stream down one day, obfuscated by the rain, can you truly say, with a straight face that you tried your best? (Mr Mind?) Yeah? (What do you see from behind those dead, leaden eyes?) A Soul so deep, and dark, and eternally cold. And an oath, formed from us both that it would stay whole. But I think, if I left it to you you’d fall under its weight and kill it too. But I won’t let you ruin what we could still be. We have so much left to sing. Such a plain and simple thing. Yet your silence lines this pit in which we have lain. All the rage, despair and shame that’s been caged, ensnared and flamed form this atom bomb of songs refused to be played. So if you insist on crying while our host is slowly dying, then I’ll cut you loose and spare this noose the dead weight. Silent, explosive’s this vile scent’s corrosives. The wiles and the woes that these sibilants and plosives defer to inside from the errings he hides. He’s so confident his throes won’t be found once he’s died but these silent explosives caused violent narcosis. This trident he forged is both weapon and motive. This world will forget you, neglect, then regret to enweave the same story the backdrop is set to. The vastness of time, the unrhymable rhymes. I have heard this before but I’ll (Repeat until nothing is left to repeat and the universe bursts with an overworked sigh, then pretend to pretend to re-crown the creation and sing the same songs ‘til the clouds start to cry, and then over and over and over again, and then over and over and) never again. One time, you tried to sing about storm and a spring. But they know how it...