I could cut my hands off now,
Just to force this gale out of me,
We could peel artichoke hearts and break our legs and dry out
Maybe if we could just talk about the weather
I have 300 bombs all in my head
I have 300 bombs all in my head.
I could cut my hands off now,
just to force this gale out of me,
We could peel artichoke hearts and break our legs and dry out
Saturday we could come home and cut the phone lines
Saturday we could come home and cut the phone lines
Saturday we could come home and cut the phone lines
I could cut my hands off now,
Just to find the skeleton of me,
We could peel artichoke hearts and break our legs and dry out and dry out
My interpretation of this was a character in immense despair or some kind of mentally ill patient that may be out of touch with reality or hearing voices, so the idea for the character is a screaming woman holding her head, and the idea for the setting is an asylum that has morphed into some kind of visual nightmare for the patient.
No comments:
Post a Comment