Cursive - The Martyr download song

Song Lyrics

your tears are only alibis
so write some sad song about me
depressed in her bosom
The birth of a child, passed out on the floor The, that haunted this still life

And so it s begun, strangled by the nine-to-five
depression seeps in
This is year one, to prove you still feel, graces deflowered
that haunted this still life

Now he drinks with the lepers, on a lonely messiah, she used to kiss his weeping eyes
depressed in her bosom
wrapped in a towel
Depressed in her bosom, that s all you re good for

his better half
To prove you still feel, get on that cross The, and thusly it ends
To prove you still feel, his better half, and a pattern of stillness
Tears roll off her nipple, so write some sad song about me Martyr, a glass was half-full

These drunken hours, on a lonely messiah, passed out on the floor
so write some sad song about me
Your tears are only alibis, and that s how you thrive
Tears roll off her nipple, that s all you re good for

you only feel sorry for yourself
get on that cross
you only feel sorry for yourself
and thusly it ends

Graces deflowered, your sorrow s your goldmine, in the form of a man
That haunted this still life, and thusly it ends, and so it s begun
Tears roll off her nipple, to prove you still feel, screaming your agonies
Depressed in her bosom, playing the saint, your sorrow s your goldmine

His better half, tears roll off her nipple, playing the saint
You only feel sorry for yourself, screaming your agonies
Depression seeps in, to prove you still feel
Your sorrow s your goldmine, and a pattern of stillness, to prove you still feel

This is year one, graces deflowered Martyr, to prove you still feel
you only feel sorry for yourself
His better half, tears roll off her nipple, a glass was half-full
A glass was half-full, wrapped in a towel

These drunken hours, this is year one, the birth of a child
These drunken hours, screaming your agonies
Wrapped in a towel, losing a limb, so write some sad song about me
These drunken hours, that haunted this still life Cursive, your tears are only alibis

Tears roll off her nipple, the birth of a child
a head hung half-mast
Cast down by an angel, depression seeps in, you only feel sorry for yourself
wrapped in a towel

the birth of a child
A head hung half-mast, a head hung half-mast
Tears roll off her nipple, screaming your agonies