Letra de September
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Every suntan tells stories and the shape of the white snitches fat men in tropical climes
And you tell me you've been fucking King Creosote
And that I should've known for a while
Watching the starlings as autumn draws in as they make ghosts across London Fields
And I would've moved out there to be with you
I would've moved out there for real
Saw a choir of golden angels wearing matching rucksacks
As they obscured the view to your train
And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rambling here...
Just want to see the way the skin splits round his bones
And the gurgling head in your lap
And the arms of the crowd as they pull me away
And the mud and the blood in the grass
When we scraped our bones together we got fire...
And you tell me you've been fucking King Creosote
And that I should've known for a while
Watching the starlings as autumn draws in as they make ghosts across London Fields
And I would've moved out there to be with you
I would've moved out there for real
Saw a choir of golden angels wearing matching rucksacks
As they obscured the view to your train
And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rambling here...
Just want to see the way the skin splits round his bones
And the gurgling head in your lap
And the arms of the crowd as they pull me away
And the mud and the blood in the grass
When we scraped our bones together we got fire...
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