clique para tocar Fechar
The Mars Volta
trinkets pale of moon
By the landfill I restI burn their clothing before I dig into the ground
I am janus-faced denial with vines
Youâ??re going to wish you hadnâ??t run
Clarodine is calling me
I hear the hearts of tiny beaten drums
I feigned umbrage at my bruising fists
Youâ??re going to wish you hadnâ??t run
And with these trinkets pale of moon
Senescent charms become a bludgeon of wrinkles
When I nurse your tired heart
For every time you hear this strain of lullabies collapsing
Walk towards the echo and let it hold you trembling
Their gourds are punctured easily
Amnesia fumes in little twists of silk
Induce this multi-strobe with melody
Youâ??re going to wish you hadnâ??t run
Iâ??ll sing you up a seedy earth
My father taught me when I was young
Youâ??ll wear the tattered fringe of hangnail regalia
Youâ??re going to wish you hadnâ??t run