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Camper Van Beethoven

The Humid Press of Days

  alternative  indie rock  indie  rock  post-punk
281,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Camper Van Beethoven - The Humid Press of Days

Camper Van Beethoven - The Humid Press of Days слова песни




What did it mean to flyA tremor in your soulTo resist the dull existence of gravityUpward bound, trees flyTwo meadows and a fieldsAnd the border is a simple line of hillsAh, didja come uncoiledBetween heavens and the earthWhispered nonsense into your radioNow afternoons you seldom moveGrounded to a little bit of earthAnd, after all, time barely crawlsUnoccupied, between each breath it sticksWhat did it mean to flyWhen you were bound to the earthA release from the humid press of daysNow afternoons it hardly movesI wonder how you make it through each dayAnd, after all, time barely crawlsUnoccupied, between each breath it sticksWhat did it mean to flyA tremor in your soulTo resist the dull existence of gravityWhat did it mean to youAn early chat with deathTo pull your body for a moment from your soul

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