Paper Tigers - Dirty Dike, Verb T, Chester P

Paper Tigers - Dirty Dike, Verb T, Chester P

Альбом
Sucking on Prawns in the Moonlight
Год
2015
Язык
`Inglês`
Длительность
295380

Abaixo está a letra da música Paper Tigers , artista - Dirty Dike, Verb T, Chester P com tradução

Letra da música " Paper Tigers "

Texto original com tradução

Paper Tigers

Dirty Dike, Verb T, Chester P

Jumping out of moving cars

I dance lucid in a room of stars

I chewed apart the nasty rumour that I’m human art

And since youth I’d pass zoots and dig into the past

I used to laugh but now I see the bitter truth

There’s something in the sentences

Something like adventures of a hedonist

Precious bitches getting jealous of their friends and shit

It wasn’t mentioned but the sentiment was definite

I see the separated petals getting delicate

You know I see you

Your smokescreens are see-through

Clean view open so there’s no need to need you

I speak truth and know the coke dreams precede you

Throat bleeds a closed leak of flows beaming Hebrew

Happiness I grab it back and habitat I smash to bits

Snapping twigs to match the apathy I haven’t gripped

Grab and sip liquor back, an agitated pacifist

Incubate a panic, flicking magic cuz the planet twists

We watch your simple life, complicate the shit and die

Compensate the bitch you like and conversate with bitter lies

Just another what’s-his-face sitting round the crib at night

Getting high, twisted in the mystery within the mind

I pick the splinters out with imagery and intertwine

Sipping white wine and thinking «Isn't this a wicked time?»

Piss and cry, wishing I could distance it and simplify the shit inside

And still I’m living with it, kid goodbye

I’m walking openly wild in a field of paper tigers

Reoccupying these skies I deserted earlier

Rise of the ghostly riders, unhinged in my psychedelia

Signs of a new Siberian (?) that’ll bite inferior minds

Remind me later of keeping up social etiquettes

Fuck your mediums, peeving on urban tediums

Sleeping is overrated, they failed on the first forget-me-nots

These morbid hurdles of faith in a world of deadly plots

Tomorrows yesterdays drown in a single pinch of salt

Grounds of drowning rats beyond doubts with an air of rancid faults

These kids are cancer, my visor is autopilot

Advising these worldly famers to steer from the path of pirates

I’m flying the skull and bones in a war that has never ended

I’m more than a battle rapper, my ego has transcended

The birth of a revolution, returning to your revolvers with fingers around the

triggers of life and my whole involvement

We watch your simple life, complicate the shit and die

Compensate the bitch you like and conversate with bitter lies

Just another what’s-his-face sitting round the crib at night

Getting high, twisted in the mystery within the mind

I pick the splinters out with imagery and intertwine

Sipping white wine and thinking «Isn't this a wicked time?»

Piss and cry, wishing I could distance it and simplify the shit inside

And still I’m living with it, kid goodbye

Flickering holograms, a hollow heart, hollow man

Sat doing fuck all then laughing like it’s gone to plan

Contraband gets abused whenever we get in moods

And telling every tale about it whenever we step in booths

I’m sat unamused, I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?

Telling me your life story, man that shit is nothing new

I’m taking off flying, look mate I’m not lying

I would love to listen but I’ve got paint to watch drying

You see the hot iron brand 'em, it’s remarkable

We herd 'em up because I heard enough of what they churning up

Just another so-and-so poncing cigarettes

And feeling bitterness but forever talking 'bout us indirect

Living in a twisted mess and sipping death from a cup

What a cunt, you on the up?

Nah, that is incorrect

Drama queens, self obsessed

Went mad and felt possessed to leap into the fire

Now we dining on the melted flesh

We watch your simple life, complicate the shit and die

Compensate the bitch you like and conversate with bitter lies

Just another what’s-his-face sitting round the crib at night

Getting high, twisted in the mystery within the mind

I pick the splinters out with imagery and intertwine

Sipping white wine and thinking «Isn't this a wicked time?»

Piss and cry, wishing I could distance it and simplify the shit inside

And still I’m living with it, kid goodbye

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