The Weakerthans все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

When the bus shelter windows and napkin dispensers surprise,
With distorted reflections it's never the someone you're hoping to recognize,
And the rent is too high living here between reasons to live,
Where you can't sleep alone and your memories groan and the borders of night start to give,
When you (when you) can't save cash or conviction you're broken you're breaking a tired shoelace or a wave,
So long past past-due, a new name for everything

When the runways collude with the map that you folded wrong,

Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare,
the time it takes to get from here to there.
My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free;
I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely.
I am so much better than I used to be.

Terrified of telephones and shopping malls and knives,
And drowning in the pools of other lives.

Garage Sale. Saturday.I need to pay
my heart's outstanding bills.
A cracked-up compass and a pocket watch,
some plastic daffodils.
The cutlery and coffee cups I stole from all-night restaurants,
a sense of wonder only slightly used
a year or two to haunt you in the dark.
For a phone call from far away

in the stick count for the song
with knowing you’re gone
glancing up at where you lived
when you lived here

i see you suddenly alive
and nearly smiling
i stop and hold my breath

I'm standing on this corner. Can't get their attention. Facing rush hour faces turned around. I clutch my stack of paper, press one to a chest, then watch it swoop and stutter to the ground. I'm weary with right-angles, abbreviated daylight, and waiting for a winter to be done. Why do I still see you in every mirrored window, in all that I could never overcome? How I don't know what I should do with my hands when I talk to you. How you don't know where you should look, so you look at my hands. How movements rise and then dissolve, melted by our shallow breath. How causes dance away from me. I am your pamphleteer. I walk this room in time to the beat of the Gestetner, contemplate my next communique. The rhetoric and treason of saying that I'll miss you. Of saying "Hey, well maybe you should stay." Sing "Oh what force on earth could be weaker than the feeble strength of one*" like me remembering the way it could have been. Help me with this barricade. No surrender. No defeat. A spectre's haunting Albert Street. I am your pamphleteer.

Why don't you ever want to play?
I'm tired of this piece of string
You sleep as much as I do now
And you don't eat much of anything
I don't know who you're talking to
I made a search through every room
But all I found was dust that moved
In shadows of the afternoon

Let the waitress put the chairs up,
let the glasses that you broke,
form a picture of our leader
with a halo made of smoke.

Let the golden oldies station
crackle and come through.
With a final benediction

Well, I'm lost
I'm afraid
Rope tying down a leaky boat
To the roof of a car on a road in the dark and it's snowing
If I'm more then it means less
Last call for happiness
I'm your dress near the back of your knees and your slip is showing
I'm a float in a summer parade

Rolling cables slick with beer
To hang up on the broken stands
The houselights lit our injuries
For crowds with plastic cups that clapped
Beneath our tender sleepy brooms
And boom boom boom boom
Went absent cases down the stairs
Into the parking lot out back

The mirrors and the unacknowledged nods.
Dial tones and license plates.
The words you didn't choose.
Everything the day's too small to hold spills on to the dusk,
and shorts the evening's fuse.
So you fumble for a voice and sing "Happy Birthday."
Read it to yourself again.
The stories always end the same.