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Death Cab for Cutie lyrics
Album: You Can Play These Songs With Chords [2002]
| President of What? | |
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I saw the scene unfold on a rainy Sunday
Creases indicating fold that kept four walls from caving in
I took a little more of what i take for granted
And filled my plate for fear that gears would turn
And wheels would roll away
Something's got to break you down
Entered the scene (I'm told) on I think it was Monday
You drove straight through and mined that quarry
For all it could bleed 'til dry
I took a little more 'til I got taken for granted
'Cause beautiful boys gave chase
And when they arch your backbone
It's such a dreadful sight
I'll react when faces find you
With jealous fits that gag and bind you
'Cause nothing hurts like nothing at all
When imagination takes full control
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| Champagne from a Paper Cup | |
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I think I'm drunk enough to drive you home now
I'll keep my mouth kept shut from under lock and key
That's rusted firm, no lie
'Cause all these conversations wind on and on....
Drinking champagne from a paper cup
Is never quite the same
And every sip's moving through my eyes
And up into my brain
At half past two; about time to leave
'Cause the DJ's playing rhythm and blues
A sad-sorry state, stutter step to those slammin' grooves
As i'm waiting around for you....
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| Pictures in an Exhibition | |
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I think you caught me on the downslide, downturn
I was busy writing with a pen and paper thin dream
and all your plastic people with plastic hearts and smiles
they had the worst intentions all along after all....
The royal castle holds the mellow drama kings and queens
And all their dazzling children; they're so regal (clean)
With pristine fingertips they wash behind their ears
And let their hair down 'til the audiences leave
I'm definitely shaking
The silence isn't breaking
Backwashed and stranded memories
Of something I thought could be
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| Amputations | |
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And if it was just how you wanted
You'd be glued to his bones and his brainstem
And changing your image and attitudes
Won't bring you back into your bedroom
Amputating as he's waiting
He's unresponsive 'cause you're irresponsible
Little swinger your bottle is thinking too much
'Cause you're aiming to please way off target
And I'll tell you what you must already know
Of amputating that too slow
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| Two Cars | |
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Try to scrape it off the thought of skin against skin
Move it front to back and start it go again
With the depression and time we will multiply
I've got more mouths to feed than I could ever
Fit in this auto
You go have a good time
Bring back stories
Cause I will stay behind
So punch the clock two months of up and I am stuck down
Against the floor the heat rises out of this town
With the depression and time we will multiply
Till I've got more mouths to feed than I could ever
Fit in this auto
You go have a good time
Bring back stories
Cause I will stay behind
And that's the story of the boy who tried to play it cool
He found it hard to keep it up when you were changing rules
With the depression and time we will multiply
Till I've got more mouths to feed than I can ever
Fit in this auto
You go have a good time
Bring back stories
Cause I will stay behind
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| Line of Best Fit | |
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These things take my time and energies
Don't stand too close without apologies
Cutthroat; cut out candid glimpses and
Wind me up; I'm ready
Can't escape this line of best fit
Can't escape this line of best fit
These things take my time and energies
Don't stand too close without apologies
I remember being inside something more than you...
Can't escape this line of best fit
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| TV Trays | |
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summer's gone
i overslept and woke up to the chill of fall
overworked and now i'm all used up
this tv haze sucks me through
i watch the world from me inside
overworked and now i'm all used up
final drag, fills my lungs and makes me high
they fill up, as i bottom out
steering wheels, watch them driving driving
with some place to go, i'd steer myself, but i don't have a route
looking onto men, no ice cream man...
beaches filled with sand
while the tv trays, wasting summer days
slowly slipping away
but ur so little help
when days are slow
and i'm down inside
i'll have to go
your so little help
when mine's slow
when i'm down inside
summer's gone
i overslept and woke up to the chill of fall
overworked and now i'm all used up
this tv haze, sucks me through
i watch the world from me inside
overworked and now i'm all used up
looking on to men, no ice cream man...
beaches filled with sand
while the tv trays, wasting summer days
slowly slipping away
but your so little help
when days are slow
and i'm down inside
i have to go...
your so little help
when your are slow
when i'm down inside...
i'm down inside
i'm down inside
i'm down inside
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| Tomorrow | |
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Believe in me, im sad and blue
Left with nothing but a picture
Third or fourth weekend in June
December seems to come too soon
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until
Head is swirling with the scene
Of you and him embraced in rupture
Dirty trying to come clean
But every thought I have's obscene
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until
Quilted in our hands
And keeping you tucked in too deep
Struck in the shot of two
Twenty-four hours in June
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until tomorrow?
Will you wait until tomorrow?
[sorry if a few lines are wrong, but I did it by ear]
-Chris B.
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| State Street Residential | |
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Holding fast until the rent checks wear thin
because it hasn't sunk in... so far
Well it's a drab routine, the dust storms building
and then it's hard to come clean
Then the months stack up to an addictive crutch
As if the drink weren't enough
A stagger cannot compete
There's no charm in being residential state street
And if I was sober
could I kill caution and stay over
And if I was sober
would I rip hearts apart like paper?
I wish you could know better than you show
with parted lips pointed down
That the whiskey soothes more than you could ever do.
And if I was sober
Could I kill caution and stay over?
And if I was sober
Would I rip hearts apart like paper?
What a difference it made
What a difference it made
And if I was sober
Could I kill caution and stay over?
And if I was sober
Would I rip hearts apart like paper?
What a difference it made
What a difference it made
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| Song for Kelly Huckaby | |
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Photographs of the best time you had,
windows smugded by the speed.
Leaving home with our bags from Iron Street,
as morning turned into California,
And smoke trailed from the butt of my cigarette.
Our glass house it threw rocks at all those it past.
Waking up to the sound of 5 A.M to take my turn at the wheel.
Climbed up Shasta, oh how the engine ached
as the sun tortured California,
and old alleys turned deep at the heart of me.
Murals of heros defacing the blank concrete.
Vision tunneled, Mission Street, hunger beat
lodged out as the engine wheezed.
Still moving regardless of stable ground
and this stable ground.
Photographs of the best time you had,
windows smugded by the speed.
Leaving home with our bags from Iron street
as morning turned into California.
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| Army Corps of Architects | |
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Leaving the central state from shallow ground
Home in the valley but the rent's paid south
You said the urn was half full when I said it was half empty
With what was left of our fair city
Call in the army corps of architects
To flatten the skyline and begin again
I knew the years would move quickly,
But never quite as fast as this
So bring the discrepancies, I'll pour the drinks.
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