Афонина Татьяна фотограф Москва

Pulp

The Trees

  britpop  indie  british  alternative  rock
915 3 часа назад

Текст песни Pulp - The Trees

Pulp - The Trees слова песни


I took an air-rifle, shot a magpie to the ground & it died without
a sound.
Your skin so pale against the fallen Autumn leaves &
no-one saw us but the trees.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees produce the air that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees; they never said that you
were leaving.
I carved your name with a heart just up above - now swollen,
distorted, unrecognisable; like our love.
The smell of leaf mould & the sweetness of decay
are the incense at the funeral procession here, today.
In the trees, those useless trees, etc.
You try to shape the world to what you want the world to be.
Carving your name a thousand times won`t bring you back to me.
Oh no, no I might as well go & tell it to the trees.
Go & tell it to the trees, yeah.

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