patron saint of bridge burners все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Try not to picture that silver ring; on his bony fingers it lingers still. Try not to picture the world he sees through the fog of memories and ill-will. Hope you’re not bitter at the songs he sings, how in hushed and whimpered whispers they slither.
Try not to picture your bear trapped in a razor-wire cage made from his thoughts and from his dreams and the nightmares in between. And never think about the lies you pushed into his head, and never think about the nights he wishes he were dead. And never wonder even once if maybe you’re to blame (no you are not to blame), and never worry. Never worry. Never worry. Never worry.
Try not to picture your bear trapped in a razor wire cage made from his fears and from his hopes and the lies you told the most. And never think about the lies you pushed into his head, and never think about the nights he wishes he were dead. And never ever, ever—no you are not to blame.
And never worry. Never worry. Never worry. Never worry.

O knave I am, confidence man, to steal both your plot and your plan. But if I’m to die then I’d rather I be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. My gossipping grandmother, gossamer gatherer, gave up my globetrotting gun-running grandfather; a blunder that bothered my father forever, I bet you my bottom and most valued dollar. He soberly suffers his swindling son-singer; O his family suffered, take me at my word. And my father’s four forfeitures may ruffle my feathers, but fine feathers, my friend, do not make a fine bird.

Make no mistake, for heaven’s sake; I let the chips fall as they may. But make no mistake, making mistakes is a game at which many can play; my father’s father and his father’s father and his father’s father, a fraud and finagler. Even carpenter/conjurer/cadaver/converter, what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Though I may be too ruffled to resemble either, I catch all the worms and I eat all my words, and much like one swallow does not make a summer; fine feathers, my friend, do not make a fine bird.

I guess one day I realized we were spiraling in and out of one another’s lives like meteorites burning dimly in the night, or like moths circling electric lights. You said “look at what’s become of us”, then you were quiet and it dawned on me that if ever I could mend your trust, that trust would not mean anything. I said “Look at us, we’re burning up”, and we saw the embers reduce to dust, and in the end it wasn’t quite enough to have loved and been loved.
But I guess deep down I knew we were stil spiraling, because I kept a pinch ashes inside a mason jar, and I hid that jar beneath a layer of masonry and tried my best to run far far far away so I would never let you down again.

A lifetime passed, or so it seemed, and finally you said to me; “whatever became of us? I kept a jar full of the dust”, and then we found a light inside, a roaring spark across the sky. “I never did give up on us,” you said as you apologized. I apologized in turn to you, and you lit up like a meteorite. “Let’s try again and this time let’s get it right.”

Now look at us we’re burning up, and we coaxed a spark out of that dust, and in the end maybe it’s enough to have loved and to have been loved.

When you look into a mirror are you seeing what I see, or just a dull reflection of what we used to be? We scarcely stood a chance, but did you know to what degree? Polish up your mask, my love; you’re not fooling me.

Will you always hide behind the ignorance of youth? Now we’re alone and the porcelain cracks when you’re faced with the truth; it’s just you and me and the person you’re pretending to be. Darling you’re the only lie I need, and all those reoccuring dreams where I’d work my hands until they’d bleed all for you all came true.

When you looked into my eyes (and do your words come from a script?), were you feeling how I felt (before the paper starts to burn)? Or is your smile just a courtesy (and was it goodbye from the start?) before the plastic starts to melt (was I just waiting my turn)? It’s just you and me and the person I can never ever be. Darling I’m the only pain you need. And all those reoccuring dreams. I’d work my hands until they’d bleed. All for you. All came true. All came true.

I’d like to say I’m sorry.
It may seem a bit cliche,
But I’m glad to see that you’ve been well.
Some day I’ll feel OK.
You’ve found a brand new toy
To play with ‘til it breaks.
Just how long until you slip
And make the same mistakes?

One November we made that first mistake. Just one of a hundred more. The beginning of something that someday we’d regret—you know the score. And we began our steep descent. Didn’t understand the words you spoke. You said some day you’d tell me what the words you whispered meant, and now I know.
We made promises that ruined us. We made promises that fell apart, and you made promises I knew weren’t really true; ones that would break my heart.
It was a cold April morning when I picked up the telephone. You said the words you said before in a way I understood—we weren’t alone. I started to feel as light as a feather when you told me you chose your school. You told me “something greater wanted us to be together”. You had me fooled.
And over time that poisoned us. And over time we fell apart. And over time I slowly began to hate you, and my light and trusting heart.

I don’t sleep, ‘cause when I do, all I dream are dreams of you. When I wake up, you are not around. In my best dreams I am dying. In my worst, you say you’re trying—and in yours you say your teeth are falling out.
Pick your teeth up from the floor, ‘cause I don’t walk that path no more, or hold the handle of a sword for causes lost. Tumble down the mountaintop and break your back among the jagged rocks, and when regret starts to knock you leave the door locked. If it’s the distance you couldn’t take, then let’s not repeat the same mistakes and for our sakes remember when to call enough enough. If it’s my drinking you can’t abide I’ll have you know that I have tried and tried and tried and tried and now I’m giving up.
Because silently I’d bear your burdens just as much as you’d be bearing mine, and I admit that though you tried it wasn’t ever quite enough. “Toughen up”. Silently I’ll burn my burdens. You’re the worst best dream I ever, ever had.
You’re the worst best dream I ever, ever had.

My mother cries to me, she says “I can’t carry on.”
My brother hides his head, he’s sober and withdrawn.
Grandmother cries to me, says “I don’t wanna die.”
And through all this, not once were you standing by my side.

Oh mother: I apologize for the person I’ve become.
Oh father: I apologize for the misdeeds that I’ve done.
Oh brother: I apologize; it’s very overdue.