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Текст песни Elvis Costello - Poor Fractured Atlas

Elvis Costello - Poor Fractured Atlas слова песни




Hes out in the woods with his squirrel gunTo try to recapture his angerHes screaming some words at the top of his lungsUntil he begins to feel youngerBut back at his desk in the city we findOur trembling punch-drunken fighterWho cant find the strength now to punish the lengthOf the ribbon in his little typewriterPoor fractured atlasThrew himself across the mattressWaving his withering pencilAs if it were a pirates cutlassIm almost certain hes trying to increase his burdenHe said "thats how the child in me planned it;A woman wouldnt understand it"I believe there was something that I wanted to sayBefore I conclude this epistleBut you would forgive me for holding my tonguecause man made the blade and the pistolYes man made the waterfall over the damTo temper his tantrum with magicNow you cant be sure of that tent of azureSince he punched a hole in the fabricChorusA woman wouldnt understand itA woman wouldnt understand it

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