Тексты песен «Kevin Max»

Here we are 21st century darlings All we are is just spinning wheels Headless kings without the will to dream Tarot cards and saccharin Dating games and dieting We foster things we should not keep Oh my my... All angels...

I want a girl with a college head Not some dizzy mind I want somebody with some sentiment You want to waste my time I want a house in New Orleans You want to hitch a ride Some come on back when you can make some tea...

I wanna girl with a college head Not some dizzy mind I want somebody with some sentiment You wanna waste my time I wanna house in New Orleans You wanna hitch a ride So come on back when you can make some tea And read...

I can tell your beat up inside Your black and your blue And you don't know how to find the light Uh oh Tell me how to make it alright I've been through hell too And I've had my own poltergeist You need to find peace...

All in all we're fading Like a soul lost in the wilderness We're cold and we're cut off from it Not knowing where it's gonna end There's a star in Bethlehem, calling you It's memory of one made it Be, be yourself...

There's no one stirring on my street tonight There's no one leaning on my window pane, that's right No one to ascertain or just apologize to There's no one to kill my anxiousness again And if you can please take these...

If angels were men well then they couldn't fly If birds had souls they would forever glide If people would love then more of us would be alive Oh my my oh my If you were me you wouldn't sleep at night I take back...

They saw us coming From miles away Jubilant train Wearing a pink boa and feathers like an exotic bird Double headed Breathing smoke Looking for a line to quote Waiting to jump the rope To change the vote To witness hope...

As the sand shifts cool beneath your feet By the light of a dead end moon Your haunted fingers on my skin, so sweet Your hair like darkest loom Like a cherub left to gather moss Like a ship without its sail that's...

You are the center of your own private little constellation And you are the jury and judge of every little deconstructed fable And you like the way it is, you don't want to question it You're the wonder of God's own...

You come into the threshold Of another starless night of fear You're running from the demons That would drag you down again Illusions of the world are spinning Out of time and frame and synchronicity You're so sad,...

'There will be signs in the sun...' And we want everything to end Just like Nostradamus said Everything is left for dead, fade to red In the gust of the wind on your back In your gut, in the tracks of your mind This...

Undress the hate Your tired hands Begin to shake Your so worn out War torn indifferent You lie among the cobwebs in your hiding place You take another pill and float away, yeah And you, you were born to the rule the...

You were my desire And I was your boy then I never knew what love was for You would never tire And I was so selfish, so sure And yet so insecure And we were young And just like truth It always swallows its own tongue...

Well I hear there was a secret chord That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? Well It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king...

Every time she comes my way she knows just what to do and say Those little smiles she throws away, they turn my stomach If you listen close enough you'll catch all the divisive stuff Those subtle moves, the way she...

And so we broke And so you decided It was you, it's always you Even though we were friends I felt uninvited The fraternity of fools And I'm drowning slowly (going down) And I'm fading like ink that's a hundred years...

the fairy tale has found an end the beauty that belonged back then had gone i wonder where it all went wrong the dream, the love, the recompense the song and here we are leaving each other wandering around haunted like...

Ohh, the hymns of angels Suffer over the stench of the twenty first century Nothing is black or white Or devoid of industry The face of monotony, the litany of popular culture I face the microphone and fumble in my...

I sit on a piano stool and I make up songs for these men who come in with dust on their faces and mud on their boots From these places that I'll never go. I sleep in a rented bed with a woman who gives me what lttle I...