Song | Back and Forth |
Artist | The Dismemberment Plan |
Album | Emergency & I |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
There’s a kind of music that reminds me of you | |
It’s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts | |
And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi | |
Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache | |
And if it hits me right it’s almost too much to take | |
And it’s got right angle laser razor thin lines | |
That curve and swerve like perfect sines | |
As we dress to the nines in an | |
Attempt to leave it all behind | |
In a search of the moment between the seconds where | |
Everything is just fine | |
That silver thread embedded deep within our spines | |
And I used to be kind of weird about this | |
A fear of dependence on a guilty gilt-edged | |
Hedged transcendence that makes us liars | |
And tense the fear of looking down and seeing | |
That nothing really suspends us | |
But it was never just another | |
Saturday night | |
Not with you in attendance | |
So put your hands in the air | |
And wave them like you just don’t care | |
It’s on a whim; it’s on a dare | |
To shrug away what we can’t bear | |
And we’re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
We’re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
So it’s a deep blue see-through membrane that protects us | |
It connects us, a pulsing cellophane | |
Party-train skein that helps us and | |
Envelopes and keeps us locked inside | |
Forever and ever along for the ride | |
And we’re moving through a phosphorescent gel | |
A semi-solid self-lit ocean and it’s a funny notion, isn’t it? | |
Yeah, but | |
I’m kinda digging it | |
And it’s rigged and isn’t nearly so big | |
And it speaks only of its own | |
Perpetual near miss | |
Like the uncertain memory | |
Of a stranger’s mistaken kiss | |
As faces slide by in glowing shadows | |
Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down | |
In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers | |
In a landscape of endless dull glitter | |
And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter | |
We exhaust ourselves trying to get there | |
Somebody scream—all right | |
We’ll try to fill the echoless night | |
So fasten up and hold tight | |
We can’t give up without a fight | |
And we’re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
We’re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve | |
Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved | |
And we were never connected or involved | |
Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics | |
With no time and no space and no schedule and no place | |
And they pass right through us without a trace | |
And sometimes that music drifts through my car | |
On a spring night when anything is possible | |
And I close my eyes and | |
I not my head | |
And I wonder how you been and | |
I count to a hundred and ten | |
Because you’ll always be my hero, even if | |
I never see you again |
There' s a kind of music that reminds me of you | |
It' s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts | |
And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi | |
Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache | |
And if it hits me right it' s almost too much to take | |
And it' s got right angle laser razor thin lines | |
That curve and swerve like perfect sines | |
As we dress to the nines in an | |
Attempt to leave it all behind | |
In a search of the moment between the seconds where | |
Everything is just fine | |
That silver thread embedded deep within our spines | |
And I used to be kind of weird about this | |
A fear of dependence on a guilty giltedged | |
Hedged transcendence that makes us liars | |
And tense the fear of looking down and seeing | |
That nothing really suspends us | |
But it was never just another | |
Saturday night | |
Not with you in attendance | |
So put your hands in the air | |
And wave them like you just don' t care | |
It' s on a whim it' s on a dare | |
To shrug away what we can' t bear | |
And we' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
We' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
So it' s a deep blue seethrough membrane that protects us | |
It connects us, a pulsing cellophane | |
Partytrain skein that helps us and | |
Envelopes and keeps us locked inside | |
Forever and ever along for the ride | |
And we' re moving through a phosphorescent gel | |
A semisolid selflit ocean and it' s a funny notion, isn' t it? | |
Yeah, but | |
I' m kinda digging it | |
And it' s rigged and isn' t nearly so big | |
And it speaks only of its own | |
Perpetual near miss | |
Like the uncertain memory | |
Of a stranger' s mistaken kiss | |
As faces slide by in glowing shadows | |
Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down | |
In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers | |
In a landscape of endless dull glitter | |
And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter | |
We exhaust ourselves trying to get there | |
Somebody scream all right | |
We' ll try to fill the echoless night | |
So fasten up and hold tight | |
We can' t give up without a fight | |
And we' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
We' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve | |
Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved | |
And we were never connected or involved | |
Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics | |
With no time and no space and no schedule and no place | |
And they pass right through us without a trace | |
And sometimes that music drifts through my car | |
On a spring night when anything is possible | |
And I close my eyes and | |
I not my head | |
And I wonder how you been and | |
I count to a hundred and ten | |
Because you' ll always be my hero, even if | |
I never see you again |
There' s a kind of music that reminds me of you | |
It' s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts | |
And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi | |
Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache | |
And if it hits me right it' s almost too much to take | |
And it' s got right angle laser razor thin lines | |
That curve and swerve like perfect sines | |
As we dress to the nines in an | |
Attempt to leave it all behind | |
In a search of the moment between the seconds where | |
Everything is just fine | |
That silver thread embedded deep within our spines | |
And I used to be kind of weird about this | |
A fear of dependence on a guilty giltedged | |
Hedged transcendence that makes us liars | |
And tense the fear of looking down and seeing | |
That nothing really suspends us | |
But it was never just another | |
Saturday night | |
Not with you in attendance | |
So put your hands in the air | |
And wave them like you just don' t care | |
It' s on a whim it' s on a dare | |
To shrug away what we can' t bear | |
And we' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
We' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
So it' s a deep blue seethrough membrane that protects us | |
It connects us, a pulsing cellophane | |
Partytrain skein that helps us and | |
Envelopes and keeps us locked inside | |
Forever and ever along for the ride | |
And we' re moving through a phosphorescent gel | |
A semisolid selflit ocean and it' s a funny notion, isn' t it? | |
Yeah, but | |
I' m kinda digging it | |
And it' s rigged and isn' t nearly so big | |
And it speaks only of its own | |
Perpetual near miss | |
Like the uncertain memory | |
Of a stranger' s mistaken kiss | |
As faces slide by in glowing shadows | |
Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down | |
In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers | |
In a landscape of endless dull glitter | |
And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter | |
We exhaust ourselves trying to get there | |
Somebody scream all right | |
We' ll try to fill the echoless night | |
So fasten up and hold tight | |
We can' t give up without a fight | |
And we' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
We' re going back and forth | |
And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve | |
Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved | |
And we were never connected or involved | |
Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics | |
With no time and no space and no schedule and no place | |
And they pass right through us without a trace | |
And sometimes that music drifts through my car | |
On a spring night when anything is possible | |
And I close my eyes and | |
I not my head | |
And I wonder how you been and | |
I count to a hundred and ten | |
Because you' ll always be my hero, even if | |
I never see you again |