I'll Make My Own Hours
The Number Twelve Looks Like You
Ten thousand times I could tell you over,
How many times I would rip through walls and ticking a typing.
I wrote a library of books in that back closet.
Scraping at the walls, with my knees in a magazine.
Roll her on out just to slide her back in.
Unravelling rolls into their machinery and click away.
This was where you could embrace misery.
With enough energy you could talk yourself out of anything.
A mind in flight, full of addiction; a circulating masterpiece
This glorious night, as I trip the horizon turns vertical.
I'd burn this place down if I had a match.
My nicotine hands are shaking.
A frantic voice is at the other side of the receiver.
"Won't you even tell me a portion of the problem?"
I grab a fist full of air and lunge at your face.
Comentários
Envie dúvidas, explicações e curiosidades sobre a letra
Faça parte dessa comunidade
Tire dúvidas sobre idiomas, interaja com outros fãs de The Number Twelve Looks Like You e vá além da letra da música.
Conheça o Letras AcademyConfira nosso guia de uso para deixar comentários.
Enviar para a central de dúvidas?
Dúvidas enviadas podem receber respostas de professores e alunos da plataforma.
Fixe este conteúdo com a aula: