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From A Beach House
par
Ezra Furman
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And what do we see here Washing up on the beach in November When nobody lives here 'Cause they've all left this beach town for the winter Tables and bed frames A complete set of tarnished silver Photographs with no names More items are left with every crash of the grey waves I collect it all over the course of four days Four days Four days alone Hiding in the yellow beach house Full of beetles and stones And a silence that's freaking me out I broke the phone I didn't mean to but I broke it The waves sigh and moan I sit on the porch and I hope it Don't start to rain again I feel muscle pain again I wait for the main event Which is your voice on the phone to me Saying the operation went smoothly And they still can't kill us, hopefully And you're in the car on the road to me With your brand new body
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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