Текст песни Thursday - Tomorrow I'll Be You

in the circuit, the frequency's breaking up. the speakers can
barely move this is not a test tune to the broadcast. witness
the jetlag. look in the mirror. adjust the V-hold shatter the
lens. pull out the shards. choke on her words, caught in her
throat. how long can the wheels maintain a spin, at this velocity?
on every block, a reminder: you can't stop this intersection.
at every turn, dead forests of tenements rise like antennas.
the miles are adding up and the days are counting down. cut the
jet black from my hair before we're bathed in the dawn of New
Year's Day. I will change back to myself in the flame, we burn
like the paper hearts of dead presidents. we're too lost, to
lose hope. maybe the night seems so dark because the day is much
too bright for us to see that we are cured. (shatter the lens.
pull out the shards). we are cured (choke on her words, caught
in your throat). that's the sound of music from another room
the piano player hangs from piano wire but the player piano carries
on. sit back and tune to the broadcast. this is not a test shatter
the lens. pull out the shards. choke on her words, caught in
your throat. as the language dissolves and the setence lifts,
a slow alphabet of rain is whispering, "aabcttipacbdefg..." since
I replaced the I in live with an O, I can't remember who you
are... ...but tomorrow I'll be you. just pick up the phone. I'm
calling from your house, in your room, in your name, lying in
your bed, following your dreams. I listen to your voice get caught
in my throat as I sing, "This Is Just A Dream." on New Year's
Day, we will change back to ourselves. in the flame we are cured.
we are cured. we are cured.