Seleziona il linguaggio per tradurre questo testo
I've been wanting you to look into reclining
In your fight for variety you surrendered to monotony
You're never happy at home
What a miserable existence
I think you're feeding the wrong leech and you're starving the wrong mouth
I don't think that you should
You want all the wrong things so that's just what you'll get
The party grows restless
You duck out for a cigarette
When the din of chatter ceases you scuttle
You flee to the mountains
Your aim is to elude the days of tedium
You're scouring a strange place for the sublime
You were driving after the divine
Maybe you're the kind who needs to crawl on all fours for awhile
Your face gets drenched from the dew
You curse the heat of the sun, the bewitching moon
Or maybe something less extreme would better suit you
I think that it would
Give me stimulation or just give me the grave
Make me the eye of the hurricane or just hand over that hemlock
When the din of chatter ceases you scuttle
You flee to the mountains
Your aim is to elude the days of tedium
I guess we take on the faces and the manners of the company that we're in
I guess we take on those faces and the manners of the company that we're in