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  • david sylvian şarkısı, nine horses albümünden.

    keep you head down
    keep you head down
    while they’re firing low
    you’re too young child
    to know the difference

    oh my pretty
    oh my sweet girl
    it’s a marvelous place
    they put weights down
    in your coat tails to burn you out

    lest you fly
    lest you take off
    and show whomever what’s what.
    it’s one outrageous lie after another

    turn their lights out
    change the channel
    before we lose the heart
    to fight against belief in what they’re saying

    there’s a hotel
    with a dark room
    at the end of a corridor
    i will meet you
    to the strains of allah

    we will lie back
    on a pillow of the whitest snow
    and the silence we were promised
    will engulf us

    lay your head down
    keep your head down
    while they’re firing low
    you’re too young child
    you’re too young child

    we will wake up
    from the dreams that bury us
    we will tunnel our way out
    by moonlight

    from the dark room
    to the white streets and the snow banks
    we’ll invest in one another’s future

    oh my pretty
    oh my sweet girl
    it’s a marvelous place
    she designed it
    with escape routes
    for you and me

    so to the library
    with your new card
    grab your favorite books
    look for blueprints
    to the strains of allah
    here we go….

    benevolence is in back
    of everyplace you look
    it’s not a monstrous face she is hiding

    if i see her
    i will tell you
    you’ll come quickly
    if you see her
    don’t hesitate just go

    but til then

    keep your head down
    keep your head down
    while they’re firing low
    you’re too young child
    you’re too young child

    you’re too young child
    here we go…
  • breaking god's heart albümünden hefner şiir gibi şarkısı. eheh. evet.

    he started to woo her in a most peculiar way,
    the librarian’s dress was a fawnish shade of grey,
    the books he was to borrow he would surely never read,
    they were of an intellectual calibre, he hoped that she would see.
    he planned to take her home to bed some day,
    he’d smooth her goosebumped skin whilst she lay,
    but the unspoken truth they both knew,
    whilst he’d dream of her often she would forget in just ten minutes.
    her beauty has not truly been seen til her beauty’s been seen by his tired
    eyes,
    her tears have not truly been dried til her tears have been dried on his tattered
    shirt sleeves.
    her body has not truly been stripped til her clothes have been ripped by his nail
    bitten fingers,
    her beauty has not truly been seen til her beauty’s been seen by his tired
    eyes.
    he was beginning to irritate so she made him go away,
    the smallest cruellest insults she ignored his subtle ways.
    the deftly silence let him know his efforts were in vain,
    did the thoughts ever exist and if so could he find them.
    (and oh, oh the loneliest of nights, he will never hold her tight, he will never
    kiss her eyelids.)