Texty písní Los Campesinos!

Los Campesinos!

Baby I Got the Death Rattle

We burnt all the skin

From the palm of my hands

With an old zippo lighter

And deodorant can

I went to the palmist

And asked her to read

No heart line,

No sun line

No life line,

No need.

Said all that I wanted was a quiet life

Not one predetermined by minuscule slices

Into my flesh and the broad she agreed

One look in my sad eyes

She had to concede

"Baby... the girdle of venus got me...

Got me down on my knees.

And baby... baby I got the death rattle and

You're six months old s-shakin' me."

Traced my right index finger

'long the roof of every car

On the walk back to your house

In the cold from City Arms

In the frost I drew a dick

For every girl that wouldn't fuck me

Woke early the next morning to see

The frost had bitten me

My blisters black and touch cold

Like a cute stuffed toy bear's nose

The kind of gift I'd give you

Like a less committed Van Gogh

And you, you are an angel

That's why you pray

And I am an ass

That's why I bray

Your halo slipped to frame you

Like a photo, a porthole window

I see blood spill in the pure snow

You see sweet sauce on ice-cream cones

And you, you are an angel

That's why you pray

And I am an ass

That's why I bray

If you were tomorrow

I'd be today

And this is the end...

(I'm serious, so listen)

Baby I got the death rattle

And baby I got it bad

I've been digging my grave

For quite some time

When I'm not digging up the past

And I chewed my only necktie

From the metal frame of my bed

Where I tied your wrists together

Spent all night givin'

(Oh, you get the message)

NOT HEADSTONE

BUT HEADBOARD

'SWHERE I WANT TO BE MOURNED