The Postal Service - Give Up (2003) by The Postal Service (보컬) on maniadb.com

To.moonn6pence From.shootingstar


smeared black ink
your palms are sweaty and I'm barely listening
to last demands
I'm staring at the asphalt wondering
what's buried underneath
where I am

I'll wear my badge
a vinyl sticker with big block letters
adherent to my chest
that tells your new friends
I am a visitor here
I am not permanent
and the only thing keeping me dry is where I am

you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment
complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that I
am just visiting
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth
leaving

d.c. sleeps alone tonight

you seem so out of contect in this gaudy apartment
complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that I
am just visiting
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth
leaving
the district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn
out their lights
and send the autos swerving into the loneliest
evening
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth
leaving

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
in our eyes are mirror images and when
we kiss they're perfectly aligned
and I have to speculate that God himself
did make us into corresponding shapes like
puzzle pieces from the clay
true, it may seem like a stretch, but
its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
head when you're away
when I am missing you to death
when you are out there on the road for
several weeks of shows and when you scan
the radio, I hope this song will guide you home

they will see us waving from such great
heights, "come down now," they'll say
but everything looks perfect from far away,
"come down now," but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your
machine but the persistent beat it sounded
thin upon listening
that frankly will not fly. you will hear
the shrillest highs and lowest lows with
the windows down
when this is guiding you home"

last week I had the strangest dream where
everything was exactly how it seemed
where there was never
any mystery of who shot John F. Kennedy
it was just a man with something to prove
slightly bored and severly confused
he steadied his rifle with his target in the center
and became famous on that day in november

don't wake me I plan on sleeping in

again last night I had that strange dream
where everything was exactly how it seemed
no concerns about the world getting warmer
people thought that
they were just being rewarded
for treating others as they'd like to be treated
for obeying stop signs and curing diseases
for mailing letters
with the address of the sender
now we can swim any day in november

don't wake me I plan on sleeping in"

Will someone please call a surgeon
who can crack my ribs
and repair this broken heart that
you're deserting for better company?
I can't accept that it's over
and I will block the door
like a goalie tending the net
in the third quarter
of a tied-game rivalry..
So just say how to make it right
and I swear I'll do my best to comply.
Tell me am I right to think that
there could be nothing better than making you
my bride and slowly growing old together

I feel I must interject here,
you're getting carried away,
feeling sorry for youself
with these revisions and gaps in history.
So let me help you remember.
I've made charts
and graphs that should finally make it clear.
I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave
So please back away and let me go.

I can't my darling I love you so.
oh oh oh.
Tell me am I right to think that
there could be nothing better than making you
my bride and slowly growing old together.

don't you feed me lines
about some idealistic future
your heart won't heal right
if you keep tearing out the sutures

I admit that I have made mistakes
and I swear I'll never wrong you again

you've got a lure I can't deny,
but you've had your chance so say goodbye,
say goodbye"

i take a breath and pull the air in
'til there's nothing left
I'm feeling green like teenage lovers
between the sheets

ba ba ba ba...

knuckles clenched to white
as the landing gear retract for flight
my head's a balloon inflating
with the altitude

ba ba ba ba...

i watch the patchwork farms' slow
fade into the ocean's arms
and from here they can't see me stare
the stale taste of recycled air
i watch the patchwork farms' slow
fade into the ocean's arms
calm down, release your cares
the stale taste of recycled air"

I was waiting for a cross-town train in the
london underground when it struck me
that I've been waiting since birth to find a
love that would look and sound like a movie
so I changed my plans I rented a camera and
a van and then I called you
"I need you to pretend that we are in love
again." and you agreed to

I want so badly to believe that "there is truth,
that love is real"
and I want life in every word to the extent
that it's absurd

I greased the lens and framed the shot using
a friend as my stand-in
the script it called for rain but it was clear
that day so we faked it
the marker snapped and I yelled "quiet on
the set" and then called "action!"
and I kissed you in a style clark gable would
have admired (i thought it classic)

I want so badly to believe that "there is truth,
that love is real"
and I want life in every word to the extent
that it's absurd
i know you're wise beyond your years, but
do you ever get the feeling
that your perfect verse is just a lie
you tell yourself to help you get by"

I've got a cupboard with cans of food,
filtered water, and pictures of you
and I'm not coming out until this is all over.
And I'm looking through the glass
where the light bends at the cracks
and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
pretending the echoes belong to someone
someone I used to know

and we become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

I wanted to walk thRough the empty streets
and feel something constant under my feet,
but all the news reports recommended that
I stay indoors
because the air outside will make
our cells divide at an alarming rate
until our shells simply cannot hold
all our insides in,
and that's when we'll explode
(and it won't be a pretty sight)

and we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go"

this place is a prison
and these people aren't your friends
inhaling thrills through $20 bills and the
tumblers are drained
and then flooded again and again

ther're guards at the on ramps
armed to the teeth
and you may case the grounds from the
cascades to puget sound, but you are not
permitted to leave

i know there's a big world out there like the
one i saw on the screen
in my living room late last night,
it was almost too bright to see
and i know that it's not a party
if it happens every night
pretending there's glamour and candelabra
when you're drinking by candlelight

what does it take to get a drink in this place?

what does it take, how long must i wait?"

I'll be the grapes fermented, bottled and
served with the table set in my finest suit
like a perfect gentleman.
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the
ancient brick where you will sit
and contemplate your day.

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you
start drowning in an open tab when your
judgement's on the brink.
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
albums back as your lying there, drifting off
to sleep... Drifting off to sleep...
I'll be the platform shoes and undo what
heredity's done to you: you won't have to
strain to look into my eyes.
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped
straight to the throat with the collar up so
you won't catch a cold.

I want to take you far away from the cynics
in this town
and kiss you on the mouth.
We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of
this scene, start a brand new colony.
Where everything will change, we'll give
ourselves new names. (Identities erased.)
The sun will heat the grounds, under our bare
feet in this brand new colony.
Brand new colony...

Everything will change, Ooo ooo...
Everything will change, Ooo ooo...
Everything will change, Ooo ooo..."

i'll write you a song and it won't be hard to sing
it will be a natural anthem, familiar it may seem
it will rally all the workers on strike for better pay
and its chorus will resound
and boost morale thoughout the day

i'll write you a song
and i hope that you won't mind
because all the names
and places i have taken from real life
so please don't be upset at this portrait that
i paint
it may be a little biased,
but at least i spelt your name right..."