Kind Of Like Spitting
dostoyevsky gets mugged outside a donut shop in jersey
Select language to translate this lyric
Our savior's fallen ill, and he won't get up
We've cast away our stones, why won't he get up?
So unawake with you, you let me drive your car
You let me break your heart and still not want to give up
So now the only time I get to see you smile
Is in the darkest rooms with the brownest tiles
And to hear you laugh is a sweet refrain
So sick with joy, I'm the perfect boy
Our savior's fallen ill, but here's a souvenir
Another saint to pierce against your bedroom wall
It says you can't give up and that you won't wake up
Until you close your eyes and lay down
- Album:
- Professional Results (1999-2014)
- The Thrill Of The Hunt
- Learn: The Songs Of Phil Ochs
- In The Red
- One Hundred Dollar Room
- Bridges Worth Burning
- You Secretly Want Me Dead
- Old Moon In The Arms Of The New
- Nothing Makes Sense Without It
- Miscellaneous
- $100 Room
- Flag: A Hush Records Primer
- Insound Tour Support Series, Volume 14
- Slightest Indication of Change
- Kind of Like Spitting
- Suburban Home Distribution Spring 2002 Sampler
- A Label Sampler
- Less
- Home EP, Volume 1
- CMJ New Music Monthly, Volume 105: September 2002