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A Portrait Of The Trequartista As a Young Man

Los Campesinos


Now is time to take recourse, to drag my bones from beneath his corpse
Retract the blade within his heart, inscribe our initials in the bark
Of every tree in every woods. In ink red blood, can you imagine?
While wearing his head as a hood. I'd take life for a crime of passion

Lies told, lies told, lies told, lies told

Darling, if I had the choice, I'd excavate his throat of voice
And corrugate his vocal chords to play a tune to please the Lord
Make him recite this murder ballad, a sombre tune told by a bore
Pump blood around the limp and pallid, harmonising as you snored

Lies told, lies told, lies told, lies told

One day when I'm older, I'll write it all down
A portrait of the trequartista as a young man

We all know we're gonna die
We're a speck of dust in a bad God's eye
He rubs us clean, but love is blind
A balloon artist kisses porcupine

We all know we're gonna die
We're a speck of dust in a bad God's eye
He rubs us clean, but love is blind
A balloon artist kisses porcupine

(We all know we're gonna die
We're a speck of dust in a bad God's eye
He rubs us clean, but love is blind
A balloon artist kisses porcupine)

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