Song | I Can't Stop Talking |
Artist | Nomeansno |
Album | The People's Choice |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Nomeansno | |
I keep myself awake at night | |
I try to stop, but | |
I can't fight | |
That voice that whispers ceaselessty | |
The one that only talks to me | |
It tells me what | |
I have to fear | |
It spits its venom in my ear | |
It calculates and carefully | |
Enumerates its strategies | |
Round and round its loves and hates | |
It endlessly reiterates | |
It never stops, | |
I've never heard | |
The silence of that final word | |
But I've got to stop talking, | |
I can't stop talking | |
There is no stopping a brain that keeps talking | |
I know it's not healthy, | |
I know it's not true | |
I don't even know who | |
I'm talking to | |
But I can't stop talking, | |
I've got to stop talking | |
All night and all day | |
I have something to say | |
I drone on and on, though | |
I know it's not true | |
I've got to stop talking, | |
I'm not talking to you | |
The truth around my tongue is curled | |
A chain of words that binds the world | |
In a fever, all | |
I Is captured in my commentary | |
The why, the who, the where, the when | |
Let me repeat them all agai n | |
And then again my voice will sing | |
The praises of it's babbling | |
The arguments that | |
I dissect | |
Are lucid, cogent and correct | |
And if you foolishly object | |
I'll Gram each word back down you neck (chorus) | |
If I'm the talker, here's the thing - | |
Just who the hell is listening? | |
And if I am not tongue but ears | |
Then whos voice is it that | |
I hear? I swallow, choke, and clear my throat | |
Here comes another anecdote | |
A narrative of restlessness | |
Of what's been done and what is next | |
Does it love me, does it not? | |
Will this seduction never stop? | |
Hear the clacking parrot's beak | |
That speaks and speaks and speaks and speaks |
zuo ci : Nomeansno | |
I keep myself awake at night | |
I try to stop, but | |
I can' t fight | |
That voice that whispers ceaselessty | |
The one that only talks to me | |
It tells me what | |
I have to fear | |
It spits its venom in my ear | |
It calculates and carefully | |
Enumerates its strategies | |
Round and round its loves and hates | |
It endlessly reiterates | |
It never stops, | |
I' ve never heard | |
The silence of that final word | |
But I' ve got to stop talking, | |
I can' t stop talking | |
There is no stopping a brain that keeps talking | |
I know it' s not healthy, | |
I know it' s not true | |
I don' t even know who | |
I' m talking to | |
But I can' t stop talking, | |
I' ve got to stop talking | |
All night and all day | |
I have something to say | |
I drone on and on, though | |
I know it' s not true | |
I' ve got to stop talking, | |
I' m not talking to you | |
The truth around my tongue is curled | |
A chain of words that binds the world | |
In a fever, all | |
I Is captured in my commentary | |
The why, the who, the where, the when | |
Let me repeat them all agai n | |
And then again my voice will sing | |
The praises of it' s babbling | |
The arguments that | |
I dissect | |
Are lucid, cogent and correct | |
And if you foolishly object | |
I' ll Gram each word back down you neck chorus | |
If I' m the talker, here' s the thing | |
Just who the hell is listening? | |
And if I am not tongue but ears | |
Then whos voice is it that | |
I hear? I swallow, choke, and clear my throat | |
Here comes another anecdote | |
A narrative of restlessness | |
Of what' s been done and what is next | |
Does it love me, does it not? | |
Will this seduction never stop? | |
Hear the clacking parrot' s beak | |
That speaks and speaks and speaks and speaks |
zuò cí : Nomeansno | |
I keep myself awake at night | |
I try to stop, but | |
I can' t fight | |
That voice that whispers ceaselessty | |
The one that only talks to me | |
It tells me what | |
I have to fear | |
It spits its venom in my ear | |
It calculates and carefully | |
Enumerates its strategies | |
Round and round its loves and hates | |
It endlessly reiterates | |
It never stops, | |
I' ve never heard | |
The silence of that final word | |
But I' ve got to stop talking, | |
I can' t stop talking | |
There is no stopping a brain that keeps talking | |
I know it' s not healthy, | |
I know it' s not true | |
I don' t even know who | |
I' m talking to | |
But I can' t stop talking, | |
I' ve got to stop talking | |
All night and all day | |
I have something to say | |
I drone on and on, though | |
I know it' s not true | |
I' ve got to stop talking, | |
I' m not talking to you | |
The truth around my tongue is curled | |
A chain of words that binds the world | |
In a fever, all | |
I Is captured in my commentary | |
The why, the who, the where, the when | |
Let me repeat them all agai n | |
And then again my voice will sing | |
The praises of it' s babbling | |
The arguments that | |
I dissect | |
Are lucid, cogent and correct | |
And if you foolishly object | |
I' ll Gram each word back down you neck chorus | |
If I' m the talker, here' s the thing | |
Just who the hell is listening? | |
And if I am not tongue but ears | |
Then whos voice is it that | |
I hear? I swallow, choke, and clear my throat | |
Here comes another anecdote | |
A narrative of restlessness | |
Of what' s been done and what is next | |
Does it love me, does it not? | |
Will this seduction never stop? | |
Hear the clacking parrot' s beak | |
That speaks and speaks and speaks and speaks |