I'm sending you this cause I think you may be interested in a new carnivale community devoid of "OMG Justin is HAWT!" and SCUTTERS and SOPHIES, and whatever else might make you have a siezure from excessive eye rolling and other folk's stupidity. I'd be happy to have you, so, stop on by. prophets_house
name this song!
anonymous
February 24 2005, 08:53:29 UTC
there's a sound across the alley of cold metal touching skin and you can see, if you look in her window that she has gone and cut her hair again in straight lines straight lines
the soft golden lights of the morning are now on her wooden floor the wind has swept them through the apartment she won't need them anymore
she's cut down on her lovers though she still dreams of them at night she's growing straight lines - where once were flowers she is streamlined - she is taking the shade down from the light to see the straight lines straight lines
she wants to cut through the circles that she has lived in before she wants to finally kill the delusions she won't need them anymore, anymore
but there's a sound across the alley, of cold metal too close to the bone and you can see, if you look in her window the face of a woman finally alone
Hey, I added you back. My email's kind of unreliable and I never saw your comment until now, sorry. Radiohead is such a great band, their music is so beautiful... have you seen their new dvd?
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of cold metal touching skin
and you can see, if you look in her window
that she has gone and cut her hair again
in straight lines
straight lines
the soft golden lights of the morning
are now on her wooden floor
the wind has swept them through the apartment
she won't need them anymore
she's cut down on her lovers
though she still dreams of them at night
she's growing straight lines - where once were flowers
she is streamlined - she is taking the shade down from the light
to see the straight lines
straight lines
she wants to cut through the circles
that she has lived in before
she wants to finally kill the delusions
she won't need them
anymore, anymore
but there's a sound
across the alley, of cold metal
too close to the bone
and you can see, if you look in her window
the face of a woman
finally alone
behind straight lines
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