CORRIGER LES PAROLES
Paroles : The Mirror
It was on the 13th revolution of Blueberry Hill
That I'd decided the needle had had enough
I pulled myself from the rocker
Looking like a dangled tangerine peel
Held by invisible fingers
Yanking a knife from the lifeless flesh lump by my feet
I replaced the stylus
It suddenly felt important not to overthink things
As I gripped out for a hoop of key like figures with my spare hand
They glowed upon a carbon peg on the wall
Bent awfully by overuse
Picked and replaced
Slowly I made my way
Convincing head and heart to remain calm
Towards something resembling a lock drawn on the mirror
In a substance bordering on obscene
I had that feeling in my stomach again
Akin to what a spent despot must go through
Down in his bunker
Waiting for a military coup
That I'd decided the needle had had enough
I pulled myself from the rocker
Looking like a dangled tangerine peel
Held by invisible fingers
Yanking a knife from the lifeless flesh lump by my feet
I replaced the stylus
It suddenly felt important not to overthink things
As I gripped out for a hoop of key like figures with my spare hand
They glowed upon a carbon peg on the wall
Bent awfully by overuse
Picked and replaced
Slowly I made my way
Convincing head and heart to remain calm
Towards something resembling a lock drawn on the mirror
In a substance bordering on obscene
I had that feeling in my stomach again
Akin to what a spent despot must go through
Down in his bunker
Waiting for a military coup
