Camber все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

I become invisible. Disappear completely. In a crowd you can watch me fade away, a trick that I learned neatly. I've got nothing much to say. Chosen my environments well for floating through discreetly. Against the wall, in the back, not on display or to be seen concretely. I've got nothing much to say or nothing much that matters. I'm stealth and your radar screens will never, ever spot me. I'm heat and you can't hit what you don't ever see. I become anonymous. To not to seems unseemly. As just another new jack castaway, a trick I learned supremely. I've got nothing much to say or nothing much that matters. I'm stealth and your radar screens will never, ever spot me. I'm heat and you can't hit what you don't ever see. Just the thought of the room can get my insides twitching. Sometimes I'll give it a go to only wind up bitching all night. And then the wreck it can cause will lead to my unhitching from it all then nothing much else matters. I'm stealth and your radar screens will never, ever spot me. I'm heat and you can't hit what you don't ever see

Sometimes I watch you when you sleep. watch your eyes
Move while you dream. you look so far away. your pretty
Mask burns up inside to hold monsters at bay. this city
Tears your soul away. you wonder if it's worth the stay.
I've been feeling that way. our glimpse behind the brick
Facade reveals despair, decay. this beautiful charade. we
Were the last to know it. leaders of the parade. we were

Unexpected or wanted for what it is worth. Sole source of her hell on earth. Then rejected like some old shoe she wouldn't wear. Message clear she couldn't care. Ignored, neglected. Handed-off, forgotten and left to find my own way. It's tragic to discover that I don't really matter to my mother. So sad and can't get much harder to keep on playing the part of darling daughter. Please come through this time. Words unspoken. Nothing special to declare, speak my mind I would not dare. Promise broken. Conspicuously never there, vanishing into thin air. Affection token. Only with an audience would she ever look my way. It's tragic to discover that I don't really matter to my mother. So sad and can't get much harder to keep on playing the part of darling daughter. I should find some way to get past the inflammatory. Not get cast in revisionist history. By contrast, I'll be okay at last. Please come through this time. Walls erected, never to come down, remain forever in the way. We are bound to each other and though we have our problems she's my mother. It's quite mad and I know I ought to not keep on playing the part of darling daughter. Maybe I can find some way. Get past the inflammatory. Free from revisionist history to write a happier story

like faded photos. home movies in your head. their theme of self-defeating. with insides peeling. a spineless mass without a shell. to have always known this feeling well. the more you want it. the more you slip away. this theme of quick retreating. with insides screaming. through sleepless nights an endless hell. to have always known this feeling. still so self-aware. while you fight for some light through the gloom. the boy is still there. alone on his bed in his room. just laugh at yourself. with thoughts this would somehow be. so damn easy. to have been down there. and remained sane. to choke for some air. and drown in rain. to have always been down there

Weekly slot in your date book. Let's pull to the curb and take a look. Breakthroughs let you off the hook and make it all better somehow. And the doctor's spinning your beginnings now. Scene of the crime. Deep in the slime. Put your troubles under close review. Hot for the scoop. Deep in the soup. Search for clues to what is eating you. To salve the hurts you never shook or explain why you can't find your nook. Just requires your checkbook to make it all better somehow. And the meds are winning 'cause you're grinning now. Popping the top. Deep in the slop. An attempt to tighten up your screw. Thrown for a loop. Deep in the soup. Search for clues to what is eating you. Opening drawers inside your head. Boxing the ghosts that you most dread. Better to just get drunk instead. To check your underpinnings requires extra innings now. The doctor takes a bow. Scene of the crime. Deep in the slime. An attempt to tighten up your screw. Hot for the scoop. Deep in the soup. Search for clues to what is eating you

she sits alone just waiting to go. how long 'til she feels the warmth of his strong hands. how long. i don't ever call. can't find the time. rationalize my stall each time. she marks the days just waiting to fly. how long 'til she feels the touch of his gaunt hands. how long. i'm always there in thoughts at least. assuage my guilt. still she is just so lonely. i am so tired i could die. sick of promises. no hope of golden years and lasting love. how long 'til my sweet old heart will break. how long must i be so lonely

storm watch it's a bad one. can't stay and you can't run. fight through for some small sun. there's no hiding. it's all so terrifying. but wipe your tiny tears away. this is where you heal. good god you're a sad one. shrunk small when you're undone. some calm is so hard won. there's no hiding. but what's the use in trying. cover up and drift away. this is how you deal. at least for today. and when you feel like dying. when all your hope gets stripped away. this is this is how you heal. this is where you stay well. wipe your tiny tears away

Last time you checked, you thought that all was swell or at least it seemed so. In retrospect your long season in hell left them less than gung-ho. But you'll make them all remember. You'll make them all believe. Though no longer young and tender, still got some tricks left up in your sleeve. Calling collect to drop your next bombshell or strike your next deathblow. Pause for effect, your breathless kiss and tell failed to set them aglow. But you'll make them all remember. You'll beg, borrow and thieve. Though you've lost that youthful splendor, still got some tricks left up in your sleeve. Left up your short sleeve. Who would have guessed? It seems like yesterday you were so self-impressed. That's how this business goes. Well past your crest you've been undressed. And it shows. It blows. No disrespect but you've taken on a smell and it won't sell. We wish you would remember before you make believe. It's better to surrender than wear your heart out on your short sleeve. Out on your short sleeve. We know you blow

I'm on my way, today. Boxed up, retreated to my dismay. I don't like this room. Stench of smoke, stale booze perfume. Cut at the knees, again. Packed in, defeated and shedding skin. I am exposed and been stored and secreted to my chagrin. There's nothing in this room. No myths left here to exhume. What you deserve when you assume you're safe up on the tightrope. I'm on my way, today