CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Bloodstream
No more the play the thing
Come time to cut the fat
Come time to take the hose
And lay the whole bare
I'm trying to find clothes I can wear anywhere
I'm wearying of all these hats
In a scene
I met a man
And he said things he didn't mean
And he wore things he didn't own
He spoke of places to which he'd never been
He had no home
--
And when has sunk the sun
And no reflections shine
And all we've left to show
Is all we've left behind
And all we carry on
In our bloodstream
In our spine
What will grow in our soul
Will anything that comes to my mind be mine
In a scene
I met a man
And he thought that wars were fought on foreign soil
And he bought the whores work in the corporate store
And he sought diplomatic immunity
Eating his papers claiming refugee
He had no home
--
Carrion and scavengers remain
A scorched floodplain
A dirty south
Full of emaciated furtive things all foaming at the mouth
Frank Chus cashiers casseurs
And a hot-or-notzi paparazzi
And we were always savages they say
Welcome back to your natural state
Enough with your huffing puffing airs
Hon who the f*ck do you think cares
For your flesh over your super-8
Or for some antiquated inner state
Now we have got to salvage some refrain
Unearth some bedrock in this sand
And shore this shit up
While we can still feel it slipping through our hands
May this be our legacy
May we be a worthy ancestry
Come time to cut the fat
Come time to take the hose
And lay the whole bare
I'm trying to find clothes I can wear anywhere
I'm wearying of all these hats
In a scene
I met a man
And he said things he didn't mean
And he wore things he didn't own
He spoke of places to which he'd never been
He had no home
--
And when has sunk the sun
And no reflections shine
And all we've left to show
Is all we've left behind
And all we carry on
In our bloodstream
In our spine
What will grow in our soul
Will anything that comes to my mind be mine
In a scene
I met a man
And he thought that wars were fought on foreign soil
And he bought the whores work in the corporate store
And he sought diplomatic immunity
Eating his papers claiming refugee
He had no home
--
Carrion and scavengers remain
A scorched floodplain
A dirty south
Full of emaciated furtive things all foaming at the mouth
Frank Chus cashiers casseurs
And a hot-or-notzi paparazzi
And we were always savages they say
Welcome back to your natural state
Enough with your huffing puffing airs
Hon who the f*ck do you think cares
For your flesh over your super-8
Or for some antiquated inner state
Now we have got to salvage some refrain
Unearth some bedrock in this sand
And shore this shit up
While we can still feel it slipping through our hands
May this be our legacy
May we be a worthy ancestry
