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tale from black
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Tunng
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1
She washes all the young blood from her hands in the sink
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And she knows that the lights will be there for her
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Breaks down the bodies to dark subtle ink
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And she scrawls on the parchments that hang in the air
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She rides a horse over stones in the night
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And she closes her eyes and lets go of the reigns
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She knows the radios run through the night
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And she knows that the lights leave the prettiest stains
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She builds a shrine and a typing machine
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And she curls up to write down her tales from the black
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Prays for a soft breeze and cool gentle rain
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And she prays for the bodies that rise slowly back
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She knows the dunes where the steel cities grow
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And she knows when they jail her they'll grind down the key
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She knows the lights lay the heaviest blows
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And she knows that the sand must submit to the sea
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She builds a bird out of plywood and gold
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For to carry the old souls on up to the sun
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Turns on the TV and sits in the cold
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And she dreams that sometimes she's the prettiest one
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She knows the thrill of the chase in her veins
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And she knows that the sinking's a trick of the light
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Prays for the silence and cool gentle rain
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And she prays that the radios run through the night
TUNNG - Bullets (Official Music Video)
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