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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: ANTJE DUVEKOT
Lyrics:
'Molly is dead and the birds have gone south,' Said the joker to the thief 'My nerves are live wire, and I'm burning on fire Got a paper in my pocket and a coupon for a cup of peace Truly there was nothing that we really lacked Except the feeling of alive That's why I turned to art, that's how you got to jail And now you're out on bail, fairytale, searching for the Holy Grail
And closer to the truth, than the kettle to the stove And the moment that I noticed that I didn't wanna know I got a pain in my heart, a burn in my throat They go down to my belly, got a bullet of a load I got an ache in my head, my confidence broke Got a lot of lost time on the shoes of my soul, yeah'
'Jesus, joker,' said the thief, 'This can't be my life Oh, something's been thrown, like an arrow or a stone Now the solitude is warmer and I'd rather be alone We lost our friends to the everyday To the drugs and the dreams To the girls in the bars, the boys in the cars When your shitty little love life reaches just to the horizon
And you're closer to the truth, than the kettle to the stove And the moment that I noticed that I didn't wanna know I got a pain in my heart, a burn in my throat They go down to my belly, got a bullet of a load I got an ache in my head, my confidence broke Got a lot of lost time on the shoes of my soul
Yeah, the light at the end of the tunnel isn't really a light If we got any closer we would find that it's only a mirror Reflecting our search lamps, here in the darkness, here in the homeland We'll always be searching for permanence in quicksand And frenzied collecting things that we just can't hold But we will hang on with our teeth'
'Molly is dead and the birds have gone south,' Said the joker to the thief, 'My nerves are live wire and I'm burning on fire Got a paper in my pocket and a coupon for a cup of peace Truly there was nothing that we really lacked Except the feeling of alive That's why I turned to art, that's how you got to jail And now you're out on bail, fairytale, searching for the Holy Grail
And closer to the truth, than the kettle to the stove And the moment that I noticed that I didn't wanna know I got a pain in my heart, a burn in my throat They go down to my belly, got a bullet of a load I got an ache in my head, my confidence broke Got a lot of lost time on the shoes of my soul,
Yeah, the light at the end of the tunnel isn't really a light If we got any closer we would find that it's only a mirror Reflecting our search lamps, here in the darkness, here in the homeland We'll always be searching for permanence in quicksand And frenzied collecting things that we just can't hold'
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