Song | Dustbins of History |
Artist | The International Noise Conspiracy |
Album | The Cross of My Calling |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Like the precision of a stutter. | |
And the comfort of being drowned. | |
Do we need more ammunition. | |
Than just one look around. | |
No comfort in isolation. | |
Just reminders of what’s wrong. | |
And still we sit here hoping. | |
For something to come along. | |
I want you to know that we’re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can’t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
In the margins of existence. | |
While life is passing by. | |
I’ve heard all the excuses. | |
Of someone afraid to try. | |
No courage in resignation. | |
Just acceptance of the facts. | |
And still you sit there hoping. | |
For something to save your back. | |
I want you to know that we’re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can’t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
I don’t wanna stay but | |
I can’t leave. | |
I want you to know that we’re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
I want you to know that we’re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can’t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
I don’t wanna stay but | |
I can’t leave. | |
I want you to know that we’re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. |
Like the precision of a stutter. | |
And the comfort of being drowned. | |
Do we need more ammunition. | |
Than just one look around. | |
No comfort in isolation. | |
Just reminders of what' s wrong. | |
And still we sit here hoping. | |
For something to come along. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can' t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
In the margins of existence. | |
While life is passing by. | |
I' ve heard all the excuses. | |
Of someone afraid to try. | |
No courage in resignation. | |
Just acceptance of the facts. | |
And still you sit there hoping. | |
For something to save your back. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can' t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
I don' t wanna stay but | |
I can' t leave. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can' t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
I don' t wanna stay but | |
I can' t leave. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. |
Like the precision of a stutter. | |
And the comfort of being drowned. | |
Do we need more ammunition. | |
Than just one look around. | |
No comfort in isolation. | |
Just reminders of what' s wrong. | |
And still we sit here hoping. | |
For something to come along. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can' t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
In the margins of existence. | |
While life is passing by. | |
I' ve heard all the excuses. | |
Of someone afraid to try. | |
No courage in resignation. | |
Just acceptance of the facts. | |
And still you sit there hoping. | |
For something to save your back. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can' t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
I don' t wanna stay but | |
I can' t leave. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. | |
And I can' t see why you wanna be. | |
In the dustbins of history. | |
I don' t wanna stay but | |
I can' t leave. | |
I want you to know that we' re gonna bleed. | |
Into the dustbins of history. |