Texty písní Pale Young Gentlemen

Pale Young Gentlemen

Our History

I woke within a circle and they glared down

at me, my ex lovers and their mothers, nails

and biting teeth. Why, why didn't I die?

My brother found my body in the grass, a

purple stain, and he didn't say a word we are

the same, we are the same.

Lines cut through my face, I felt like

a child.

You can't touch me, my people,

our history.

While I believe that I ain't

nothing, just a line in a circle, I'm

convinced that I won't forget tonight.

I won't forget tonight, my boy.

Lines cut through my face, he

carried me home.

You can't touch me, my people,

our history.

Every time she climbs atop me

I wonder will it end the same.

I don't know.

I'd like to see my father. We fit together.

I'd like to see my father.

Lines cut through my face and I

felt like a child.

You can't touch me, my people,

our history.