Yeah, yeah, I know I said on the last post that I wasnt gonna do anything on Sundays.
But I decided that every Sunday I'm going to share my favorite lyrics of the week.
Besides, I've never really been good with schedules anyway.
So here are my favorite lyrics RIGHT NOW.
Well actually, they have pretty much been my favorite ever since I became a fan of Norma Jean.
I love them so much.
Waltz around the room with a glaze in your stare.
In your tuxedo suit.
I'll give it a name.
Lower defenses.
I'll lower the casket.
Open the door and open the grave.
Murder.
Now you're doing the waltz with your murderer.
Mediocrity is the killer.
You find yourself helpless.
Christ is not a fashion, fleeting away.
He laid emeralds in her eyes,
but I'd already tried a braclet made of gold
and a scarlet thread around her wrist.
And everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs.
Oh, how seldom we belong, but how elegant our kiss. and we painted crooked lines but we danced in perfect time to a love so much refined, we know not what it is. So like the dullen wine we poor into a grief we'd known before, but never quite like this.
All I know now is regret. She follows like a silhouette of a cobblestone behind me. She has nothing left to say except to innocently ask, her voice delicate as glass. do you see me when we pass?
But I continue on my way.
In your tuxedo suit.
I'll give it a name.
Lower defenses.
I'll lower the casket.
Open the door and open the grave.
Murder.
Now you're doing the waltz with your murderer.
Mediocrity is the killer.
You find yourself helpless.
Christ is not a fashion, fleeting away.
He laid emeralds in her eyes,
but I'd already tried a braclet made of gold
and a scarlet thread around her wrist.
And everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs.
Oh, how seldom we belong, but how elegant our kiss. and we painted crooked lines but we danced in perfect time to a love so much refined, we know not what it is. So like the dullen wine we poor into a grief we'd known before, but never quite like this.
All I know now is regret. She follows like a silhouette of a cobblestone behind me. She has nothing left to say except to innocently ask, her voice delicate as glass. do you see me when we pass?
But I continue on my way.
- Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste by Norma Jean
PS. It breaks my heart that this song was on MTV.
Ugh.
♥Abigaile
Twitter: @musicandmoshing
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