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Texty > J - L > Jets To Brazil > Your X-Rays...
Your X-Rays...
(album: Four Cornered Night)
maybe some day we´ll meet again
when our two roads hit the same dead end
and o-oh i´m counting the days
cuz you´ve got something that i´ve never since seen
a willing heart and a part that´s clean
we´re both good at counting days
with an ounce of intuition and your parents´ ammunition
you come here hungry wearing naked ambition
hysterical to meet you
can you get me in?
i got three years tied to the mast of this town
she´s a handsome ship but i´m going down
and o-oh she ain´t coming with me
there´s a time to fight and a time to get out
but you´ll fight till we´re all knocked out
and oh i keep counting teeth
everyone´s an artist with a pristine vision
a cellular intelligencer with a fire in her kitchen
too many chefs on dope. and the rich don´t listen
i am the rabbit wrapped in panic actor
bag in a tree you will outlast the cast and me i gotta get some release!
it´s up or out and the ladders on fire
she greased her frock with a smile that moves the sky
surviving the insult day to day
they give you the insult to make it go away
and o-oh what can i say?
i got a wine swept smile and a well-timed mile
i´ve been running since i heart they´d sooner see us die
than o-oh come and die next to us
up to her knees in men keep hitting
and the white suits fuck like bad television
latest simple angel come die next to me
i am a shifting shape a wire walker
coked with the hopes of happy happy ever after
i came to trial out of style
but i got my eye on a country mile
where the people you know are the ones you like
