He wants to die in a lake in Geneva,
the mountains can cover the shape of his nose.
He wants to die where nobody can see him,
but the beauty of his death will carry on so
I dont believe him.
He greets me with kisses when good days decieve him
and sometimes with scorn and sometimes I believe him.
And sometimes I'm convinced my friends think I am crazy,
get scared and call him but he's usually hazy.
By one in the morning day is not ended
by two he is scared that sleep is no friend.
And by four he will drink but cannot feel it,
sleep will not come because sleep does not will it
and I dont believe him.
Morning is mocking me.
Ill wander the streets avoiding them eats
until the ring on my finger slips to the ground.
A gift to the gutter, gift to the city
the veins of which have broken me down.
And I dont believe him,
morning is mocking me.
Oh the gods that he believes never fail to amaze me.
He believes in the love of his god of all things,
but I find him wrapped up in all manner of sins.
The drugs that decieve him and the girls that believe him.
I cant control you I dont know you well
these are the reasons I think that you're ill.
I cant control you I dont know you well
these are the reasons I think that you're ill.
And since last have we parted and last that i saw him
and down by a river silent and hardened
morning was mocking us.
Blood hit the sky.
I was just happy my manic and I
He couldn't see me the sun was in his eyes
and birds were singing to calm us down.
And birds were singing to calm us down.
And I'm sorry young man I cannot be your friend
I don't believe in a fairytale end.
I don't keep my head up all of the time.
I find it dull when my heart beats my mind.
And I hardly know you i think i can tell
these are the reasons I think that we're ill.
I hardly know you i think i can tell
these are the reasons I think that Im ill.
And the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
The gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
and as my happy man, my manic and I
have no plans to move on
The birds are singing to calm us down
And birds are singing to calm us down
Laura Marling, My Manic and I EP, 2007
the mountains can cover the shape of his nose.
He wants to die where nobody can see him,
but the beauty of his death will carry on so
I dont believe him.
He greets me with kisses when good days decieve him
and sometimes with scorn and sometimes I believe him.
And sometimes I'm convinced my friends think I am crazy,
get scared and call him but he's usually hazy.
By one in the morning day is not ended
by two he is scared that sleep is no friend.
And by four he will drink but cannot feel it,
sleep will not come because sleep does not will it
and I dont believe him.
Morning is mocking me.
Ill wander the streets avoiding them eats
until the ring on my finger slips to the ground.
A gift to the gutter, gift to the city
the veins of which have broken me down.
And I dont believe him,
morning is mocking me.
Oh the gods that he believes never fail to amaze me.
He believes in the love of his god of all things,
but I find him wrapped up in all manner of sins.
The drugs that decieve him and the girls that believe him.
I cant control you I dont know you well
these are the reasons I think that you're ill.
I cant control you I dont know you well
these are the reasons I think that you're ill.
And since last have we parted and last that i saw him
and down by a river silent and hardened
morning was mocking us.
Blood hit the sky.
I was just happy my manic and I
He couldn't see me the sun was in his eyes
and birds were singing to calm us down.
And birds were singing to calm us down.
And I'm sorry young man I cannot be your friend
I don't believe in a fairytale end.
I don't keep my head up all of the time.
I find it dull when my heart beats my mind.
And I hardly know you i think i can tell
these are the reasons I think that we're ill.
I hardly know you i think i can tell
these are the reasons I think that Im ill.
And the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
The gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
and as my happy man, my manic and I
have no plans to move on
The birds are singing to calm us down
And birds are singing to calm us down
Laura Marling, My Manic and I EP, 2007
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