-- I DON'T HAVE TO SELL MY SOUL --

We live this close to death

...and here i dreamt i was a soldier and i marched the streets of Birkenau and i recall in spring the perfume that the air would bring to the indolent town where the barkers call the moon down
The carnival was ringing loudly now and just to lay with you... there's nothing that i wouldn't do...save lay my rifle down

...and try one, and try two... guess it always comes down to
alright, it's okay, guess it's better to turn this way

and i am nothing of a builder but here i dreamt i was an architect and i built this balustrade to keep you home, to keep you safe from the outside world but the angles and the corners even though my work is unparalelled they never seemed to meet, this structure fell about our feet and we were free to go

... and try one, and try two... guess it always comes down to alright, okay, guess it's better to turn this way

... and here in Spain i am a spaniard, i will be buried with my marionettes... countess and courtesan will fall 'neath my tender hand when their husbands were not around... but you, my soiled teenage girlfriend or are you furrowed like a lioness and we are vagabonds we travel without seatbelts on... we live this close to death

... and try one, and try two... guess it always comes down to alright, okay, guess it's better to turn this... but i won, so you lose... guess it always comes down to alright, it's okay, guess it's better to turn this way...


HERE I DREAMT I WAS AN ARCHITECT -- THE DECEMBERISTS

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