Тексты песен «Cap'n Jazz»

so i said i guess things are alright. sternly he replied, you just sit tight kid. one thing still bothered me, but i never did bother to ask. i couldn't figure out the words. expressions and words. they're nothing but...

when i fly and look down i'd swear that's not me. that's not me. forget your taught talking and lessening lessons. you strut like a stutter. dumb loser user boy so used to the abuse can't see how he's been used. pokes...

virginia! virginia! i've got my eyes plied on virginia. she toils the spoiled in me. rises the boil in me. i ask her what makes her so old. turns cold. tells me i'm bold. whispers the words i'm done trying. lying about...

(aka my testosterone smock.) stains so deep they can see no end. stains so many they can hardly be seen. wrinkles like gashes and dirt formed shadows. my fingers swim for the end of a sleeve. and i can't understand...

that vangogh sky shrinks the city that shrinks me. (where the sky meets the city meet me.) man's amazing paved maze dictates paths we take. i know you know traps ease. i know no...

i can't stand standing here like this and i can't take taking any of this talk serious. i can't stand standing here like this and i can't take taking any of your talk serious. swimming eyes and spitting whys splitting...

the kid plays switch stance. he's so unsituated. giggling girls. his hair curls. i know he knows i know he's overrated. displaced in his placement. tripped up in a statement. i'm not like him. that kid, he plays switch...

canine exhales my steam faced spit bath. tippy toed. noses nippy cold touch. i'm looking up through gnarling gashers through drooley jowls peering into my peer. canine ate seven sick five year olds. canine ate seven...

hey coffee eyes. you got me coughin' up my cookie heart. makin' promises to myself. promises like seeds of everything i could be. hey ringwald haze. we're using bruises to loosely in a haste to lose me. and i've given...

fire is motion. work is repetition. this is my document. we are all all we've done. we are all all we've done. we are all all defenses. fire is motion. is motion growth? and you are colder than oldness could ever be...

catholic badboy in a goodboy suit. central illinois 1962. red angry already. hasn't even met me yet. just do what's just to do. gonna gotta go on and get a lotta. what i'm doing here. what i'm doing. what i am...

mud. muddy slush. slushy lawn. in the inbetween of the winter and spring and the lawn's long gone. people walking. lotsa people walking over the life in the mud on the sidewalk under my crawl. mud bubbles pop and burst...

we're being too honest. i push you to pull me. belittle my little attempts at growth. go on go on. head right down that headlight's stare. take my wind and blow it back at me. it's happened before. halo my middle a...

peanuts and kiddie molotov cocktails on a starved stomach on sunday afternoons. i've got tobacco allergies, and a bloody tongued cat lick tickling the li'l piggy peeping out of a size and a half ago shoe. i watch myself...

we're busy touching till we're dizzy stupid. i am a puppy. a balloon and a happy accident. missed she teaching me myths mistold. hold me here dearest and turn me golden. and i watched you holding up the sun. i remember...

dictioncanary can swear she's barely aware of her apparently paralyzing stares. let me let go. let me let go. angel, i've never seen you. grapevine twine and loose news noose. sitting on your driveway. twisting baited...

norman fell. pick him up. mr. ropers. i'm mr. roped. please don't push. i'm so scared. everybody's so good looking in the republic banana. (na na na na na na na na wa pa bada badaloop ba ba ba ba wa pa bada badaloop ba...

i watch you hold it above your head. a web of broken shatters up. it all collapsed as you clasped your own little piece of nothing you claim as your own. bite off your foot now. you chump. bite off your foot for a...

groans grow. growing out a horizon groin. growing from the selfish joys of a quiet, ill-reputed boy. groans roam and skip like when in rome. roaming between what we build and what grows on its own. and i can't pinpoint...

they wouldn't understand. it's a passionate youth thing. amy the victim, the victimizer. i understand. they make it so hard. amy the product, the producer. i know it's hard. tangled by hard copy. classmates called you a...