Rubble of the Past - Urthboy, Montaigne

The wounds we licked

And losses inflicted

Drifted off in the distance

And battle scars lifted

If history is told by the victor

Rip the old script up, painted over picture

The official version of the vista, rose coloured glasses

But can you hear the whispers?

They’re singing

And of all of those winters

Those incremental inches

The memory of which is

Like sand through the fingers

If history is told by the richest

Maybe you could pay to fix the painted over picture (picture, picture)

Official version of the vistas but can you hear the whispers?

They’re singing

We’re still trying to swallow down the past

Yeah-yeah-yeah

Before the past takes us down with her at last

Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

I can remember on that day

We were the reigning champions

You swallowed down that trophy

All you remember is what they said

You’re digging in to debris

For shards of glass that reflect the self

You thought was good and now all those parts

Of you are dying somewhere else

Cough it up it’s gonna hurt

But if you cough it up you’ll remember

All the roses that you grew

And all of the beauty that came through

Dusty skin from the rubble of the past

Wipe off the shit and find at last

We are right here, we are right now

And we’re gonna get through all of this somehow

Somehow

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble (somehow)

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

We’re still trying to swallow down the past

Yeah-yeah-yeah

Before the past takes us down with her at last

Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

We’re still trying to swallow down the past

Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

Before the past takes us down with her at last

Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

So we tried to write it down and document it in the hope

That maybe later you can understand the fuck where we’re coming from

And the photograph is sepia and thinnin', you could swear to God

It’s not a version of ourselves we’re running from

What’s necessary to forget for history repeating

The finer details like a hairline that had receded

So we’re going through the rubble looking for a treaty

To find a pulse when you thought the heart had stopped beating

And if a spoonful of fiction helps the history go down

Can you trust the version of events that we know now?

Who we think we are become a battleground

The past is a thing that we fling around

A thing that we fling around, a thing that we fling around

A ship we can run aground, wreck for the treasure found

Settle on a new account

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble

Going through the rubble