* Clann Zú
Words for Snow
A partir de més o menys la meitat, la cançó és genial.
So many call here on their way down below & I’ll be here burning till
the end of time. Thoughts of the falling burn from the ceiling to wall &
I’ll be here waiting till the end of time. And nothing here is safe &
nothing here is sacred & the thing you care for most will crawl away
wounded as you tell it you love it, into the dark recesses & hollowed
out corners of nothing. And the last touch is always the hardest & the
last touch is always the same & the last look is the one that will kill
ya & the last touch is the one that will drive you insane. And as the
night fell & the gutters swelled with the roar of the pissing city & the
falling balling & crawling below he sat shaking uncontrollably by the
window looking over the pestilent street. And he sat & he prayed & he
prayed & he sat & he prayed to St. Augustus, St Brigid, Padre Pio,
patron saint of all sinners, patron saint of all fools, patron saint of
every fucking dying crawling thing beneath him, shouting out the names
of the dead & forgotten. And he cried out for Christ’s sake help me! For
Christ’s sake get me out of here! God of all sick things get me the fuck
out of here! Release me!
I un vídeo:
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