Oblivion - Pain
Tekst :
Driving through South Dakota. What am I doing in this state? The fields all took the same, this had better not be a game . The heat in the car is getting to me, and sweat is in my eyes, and I can t see. And the cows keep going right on by, birds are laughing in the sky, cos I m lost. I m lost. And I don t know why I left, but I know that I ll be coming home. Coming to you on the highway, where I ll be spending the rest of my days. Don t you know how much this hurt, and there s more to pain than just blood. But you don t hear a word I say. Things I said I had to say, cos I m lost. I m lost. Coming to you one thousand mites. Getting closer, and the signs keep going right on, right on by. I m so, I m lost, so lost. Coming to you one hundred miles getting closer, and the cows keep going right on by, right on by.
Oblivion - Stupidtry
Tekst :
Do you recall when you were standing still and people passed you by? It s not hard to remember. The blank expression as they talked about the thing you could have been? I wouldn t let it happen: I drew the line and I lost my mind coincidentally. I asked when you would act your age and stop with playing all these games? The mirror didn t answer. Another day at Midway watching people drink their chardonnay. I didn t have the nerve to ask her how much it was. Paranoia has built their obscurity, but what s that say about my dependability? So in the future, when you ve got a chance to talk, I will convey the weight of your actions. The price that you pay is cause for distraction. Keeping true to myself, I can t stray from convictions: I can t deny seeing you again inflicts some history. Shiny braces marked your curiosity. Running with the clique: another casualty. And with this contract signed, I m not condemned to be stupidtry. Stupidtry. S-T-U-P-I-D-T-R-double-E. Say hello to your friend for me. Stupidtry. La lalalalalalalalalalala
Oblivion - Coast
Tekst :
A week ago, covered up in comic books and crying on your bed, yeah, I don t know, looking back sometimes, I wish I didn t leave you standing there, but someday, I ll turn around, and stop living this lie, but what I want, and what I have, are different things and it makes it want to travel to it. Here we go, doctored up on dramamine, I try hard to keep my composure. Is that so? You try to reveal to me the truth that I don t want to see, so I treated you, like they treated me, and that s not very nice, to help me out, and in return, to leave me stranded, it makes me want to travel to it. And I see you with you weak smile, telling me you ll be alright, but hey, we know the truth is otherwise, and it makes me want to travel to the coast. A story grows. Dreamt, ill-fated fantasies become a cold reality and the truth is told, sliding down the icy street, the nearest person miles from me, as things you attend to take up all your sweet time. You estimate my pain intake, just cos I can handle it does not mean that I do not feel it. Good friends, bad friends, good snails, clowns, and crickets, peeling out on the chest, tire marks and implications of a high octane spinout. At best, the patience of a saint is an understatement, and it won t mean a thing when you re accused of playing favorites. And now, here s Mr. Reliable, outside waiting for a train for a friend at midnight and it s pouring in the rain in corduroy and I m waiting. I m waiting. I m waiting. I m waiting. For nothing. For nothing. I m waiting. For nothing. I m waiting. For nothing. I m waiting. For nothing. For nothing. For nothing. I m waiting. I m waiting. A week ago, covered up in memories and overdosed on my nostalgia. I don t know, looking back sometimes I wish I would ve left you standing there, but it s too late, for see ya s , and hate the morning shine. But something is out there, a warm breath in cold skies, and I see you with your weak smile, telling me you ll be alright, but we know the truth is otherwise, I packed my bags and now I m going to travel to the coast.