|
|
|
- 645,461 Letras
- 35,546 Artistas
|
|
|
Ver Letra de cancion para GYPSY GIRL:
| | Artista: | Saul Williams |
| | Album: | Desconocido | | Cancion: | GYPSY GIRL | | | | Fecha Agregada: | 16/05/2010 | | Vistas: | 23 |
| | | Letra: | And she doesn't want to press charges, my yellow cousin - ghost of a gypsy
drunk off the wine of
pressed grapes, repressed screams of sun-shriveled raisins and their dreams interrupted by a manhood
deferred
will she ever sober? or will they keep handing her glasses overflowing with the burden
of knowing
I never knew
never knew it could harm me, the ghost of a little girl in the
desolate mansion of my manhood
i'm a man now
and then.
i remember, that i have been charged
one million volts of change
Will the ghost of that little girl ever meet my little girl? she's
one now she must have been three then, maybe four
she's eighteen now, i'm 25 now, i must have
been twelve then
my mother said he was in his 30's and she's now pressing charges, although she's
been indited, and i can't blame her
i can't calm her, i want to calm her
i want to call him
names, but only mine seems to fit
C'mon let's see if it fits
two little boys with a magic
marker marked her and it won't come out
"they put it in me!" "no he didn't, what are you talking
about? it's not permanent
it'll come out when you wash it." damn maybe it was permanent
i
can't forget
and i hope she doesn't remember
maybe magic marked her
Lord i hope he don't
pull no dead rabbits out of that hat, what you gonna do then? and what was mary's story? the story
of a little girl with a brother and a couch
she's got a brother, a couch, a sister locked in her
bedroom, and a mother on vacation
lord, don't let her fall asleep
Her brother's got keys to
her dreams
he keeps them on a chain that now cuffs his wrists together
mummy doesn't believe
he did it
but he's left footprints on the insides of his sister's eyelids, and they've learned to
walk without him and haunt her daily prayers
and if you rub your fingers ever so softly on her
inner thigh, she'll stop you
having branded your fingertips with the footprints of her brother,
the disbelief of her mother, and her sister who called her a slut for sleeping
Lord, i've known
sleeping women
women who've slept for lives at a time, on sunny afternoons, and purple
evenings
women who sleep sound, and live silently
some dreams never to be heard of
again
i've known sleeping women and have learned to tip-toe into their aroma, and caress
myself
they've taught myself how to sleep having swallowed the moon
sleep 'till mid
afternoon
and yearn for the silence of night to sleep sound once again
Painters of the wind,
who know to open the windows before closing their eyes
finding glory in the palette of their
dreams
she had no dreams that night
the windows had been closed
the worlds of her
subconscious sufficated and bled rivers of unanticipated shivers and sounds that were not
sleep
she was sound asleep, and he came silently
It wasn't the sun in her eyes, nor the noise
of children on route to school
she wrote to the rays of an ingrown sun, fungus that stung more
than it burned
a saddened school on route to children who dared to sleep on a couch exposed to
their schizophrenic brother, only to wake with a new personality
one that doesn't trust as much
as it used to
and wears lifejackets into romantic relationships, can't stand the touch of
fingertips, damn was that marker permanent? i hope she don't press charges
I hope they don't
press no more grapes into wine because she might get drunk again and fall asleep
rise and shine
my mother used to say, pulling back the clouds of covers that warmed our night
but the fleshy
shadows of that moonless night stored the venom in it's fangs to extinguish the sun
Rise and
shine, but how can i when i have crusty cloud configurations pasted to my thighs? and snow covered
mountains in my memories
they peek into my daily instruction, my moments
they hide in the
corners of my smile, and in the shadows of my laughter
they've stuffed my pillows with
overexposed reels of abc afterschool specials
and the feathers of woodpeckers that bore hollows
into the rings of time, that now ring my eyes, and have stumped the withered trunk of who i am
I
must remember, my hands have been tied behind the back of another day
if only i could have them
long enough to dig up my feet which have been planted in the soiled seeds of a harvest that only
hate could reap
I keep trying to forget, but i must remember
and gather the scattered
continents of a self, once whole
before they plant flags and boundary my destiny
push down the
watered mountains that blemish this soiled soul before the valleys of my conscience get the best of
me
i'll need a passport just to simply reach the rest of me
a vaccination for a lesser god's
bleak history.. | | | |
 Agregar a del.icio.us
 Digg this
 Reddit
|
|
Mas letras de canciones de Saul Williams
|
|
|
