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Agent Fresco
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10. Clairo - Juna
Agent Fresco - Of Keen Gaze
Of Keen Gaze
Tekst dodał(a): Marta3
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Tłumaczenie dodał(a): brak
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Teledysk dodał(a): avatarm
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Tekst piosenki:
Swim
Have to swim
Lips are leaking
Speaking oily trench remarks
Not hearing clearly
Swim
Have to swim
Portraits drinking
Sinking thoughts of old malign
“Did I design this”
Swim
Have to swim
Foam the fringed skirt cringes out
An old familiar hurt
“Undress the rest”
Swim
Have to swim
Floating feathers wait for whispers to pervert
“Who loved you best”
“These arms are oars”
Swim
Have to swim
Plastic vultures costume caskets to aboard
The deep wide chasm is near
Of keen gaze
Tell me now
When choir has sung and notes decay
Tell me now
When all seats have been left
Tell me
Why this writhe
Belongs to you
Please tell me
Just how many harmonies must orchestra feed
Of keen gaze
Keep singing on and on and on
Swim
Have to swim
Chin is weakening
Gasping invitations to
An empty ballroom
Swim
Have to swim
Legs are sleeping
Grasping imitations to
Avoid your womb
“These arms are oars”
Swim
Have to swim
Behind a burning flock of paper doves
That’s given up on love
All drown with horses
Have to swim
Lips are leaking
Speaking oily trench remarks
Not hearing clearly
Swim
Have to swim
Portraits drinking
Sinking thoughts of old malign
“Did I design this”
Swim
Have to swim
Foam the fringed skirt cringes out
An old familiar hurt
“Undress the rest”
Swim
Have to swim
Floating feathers wait for whispers to pervert
“Who loved you best”
“These arms are oars”
Swim
Have to swim
Plastic vultures costume caskets to aboard
The deep wide chasm is near
Of keen gaze
Tell me now
When choir has sung and notes decay
Tell me now
When all seats have been left
Tell me
Why this writhe
Belongs to you
Please tell me
Just how many harmonies must orchestra feed
Of keen gaze
Keep singing on and on and on
Swim
Have to swim
Chin is weakening
Gasping invitations to
An empty ballroom
Swim
Have to swim
Legs are sleeping
Grasping imitations to
Avoid your womb
“These arms are oars”
Swim
Have to swim
Behind a burning flock of paper doves
That’s given up on love
All drown with horses
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