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Narcissists in Accidents
recklessness and youthful indiscretion
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Genre
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Genre
Take charge
Charts position
» highest in charts: # 446 (158,102 songs currently listed in Alternative)
» highest in sub-genre: # 81 (29,172 songs currently listed in Alternative > Indie)
» highest in sub-genre: # 81 (29,172 songs currently listed in Alternative > Indie)
Lyrics
Cross our hearts by the road where they stop.
We dragged mirrors into these fields when we were young
And I haven’t since slept as soundly as I did in the image of myself in love.
Draining our egos out of eyes of endless sea,
do you remember me crying you to sleep
while my mother, down the hallway, did the same for me?
Her pain still echoes faintly in a rain a world away.
But I can hardly hear it; it just slams against the pavement and breaks.
Memories are shattered under moonlight in an Indiana landscape.
I left you in the water.
I meant to come back for you.
Your perfume is mixing with hydrogen and oxygen,
all perfection in that molecular formation.
You left your halo on the dashboard;
I’ll float it out to you
And let the moon reflect on the love it took away from me
Just to watch itself glow from its condescending ceiling.
I’ll pack my disillusionment and find my car keys
And drive along crematory lines
Pulverize my love and when the angel dust dries
I’ll take her to my lips and lick her back inside
And I’ll fly.
If I’m asked, I’ll just blink you back.
It’s not what it looks like;
it’s only a car crash.
I can’t assess the damage until I fall out of love with it.
I’m walking away now. I have to pluck out the glass.
I just never thought I’d get so goddamned tired of thinking about you.
I know you never thought a god would be such a liar or that she’d abandon you.
I’m in the coldest corner of the world. I am curled up staring at this mess.
I knew you’d run into the devil someday, baby, and he’d take your innocence.
I’ve turned over my own card of temperance. Sleep on your own knives. I’m not dying for this.
Finally fell off this awful drug.
We raced white ponies through otherwise pure blood.
Now we’re starting to slow down and take a look at all the wreckage that belies us.
Ulcers and accidents, we were masochists and narcissists.
Above veins that matched the roadways we carved maps of where our cars were crashed.
Women kept taking their clothes off for god.
We were sitting in for him and watching.
Through the windshield vows of silence got so quiet.
I just strung their beads of tears.
But I still carved my heartaches in my bed frame and I stand for everyone I’ve loved
but you’re the notch that finally broke my back. I kept all my sins in bottles as if saving up for death by apology.
I’ll drink it when I’m sorry.
You thought that soon I’d be tangled in your motor, smoking, black and blue, but no.
I no longer wish to touch you.
I just wish not to want to.
You were golden by the fire in the outline of a silver moon.
I saved every shiny teardrop because I thought they’d turn to silver too.
But they melted after winter and left a puddle that revealed the truth.
You’re just a pretty case of pretty pills.
I’ll leave you by the road where someone will find you and swallow what I did.
Someone will take you home, dear.
She’ll stare too long into a mirror of tears, fall in love with herself and drown there
And they’ll call it an accident
We dragged mirrors into these fields when we were young
And I haven’t since slept as soundly as I did in the image of myself in love.
Draining our egos out of eyes of endless sea,
do you remember me crying you to sleep
while my mother, down the hallway, did the same for me?
Her pain still echoes faintly in a rain a world away.
But I can hardly hear it; it just slams against the pavement and breaks.
Memories are shattered under moonlight in an Indiana landscape.
I left you in the water.
I meant to come back for you.
Your perfume is mixing with hydrogen and oxygen,
all perfection in that molecular formation.
You left your halo on the dashboard;
I’ll float it out to you
And let the moon reflect on the love it took away from me
Just to watch itself glow from its condescending ceiling.
I’ll pack my disillusionment and find my car keys
And drive along crematory lines
Pulverize my love and when the angel dust dries
I’ll take her to my lips and lick her back inside
And I’ll fly.
If I’m asked, I’ll just blink you back.
It’s not what it looks like;
it’s only a car crash.
I can’t assess the damage until I fall out of love with it.
I’m walking away now. I have to pluck out the glass.
I just never thought I’d get so goddamned tired of thinking about you.
I know you never thought a god would be such a liar or that she’d abandon you.
I’m in the coldest corner of the world. I am curled up staring at this mess.
I knew you’d run into the devil someday, baby, and he’d take your innocence.
I’ve turned over my own card of temperance. Sleep on your own knives. I’m not dying for this.
Finally fell off this awful drug.
We raced white ponies through otherwise pure blood.
Now we’re starting to slow down and take a look at all the wreckage that belies us.
Ulcers and accidents, we were masochists and narcissists.
Above veins that matched the roadways we carved maps of where our cars were crashed.
Women kept taking their clothes off for god.
We were sitting in for him and watching.
Through the windshield vows of silence got so quiet.
I just strung their beads of tears.
But I still carved my heartaches in my bed frame and I stand for everyone I’ve loved
but you’re the notch that finally broke my back. I kept all my sins in bottles as if saving up for death by apology.
I’ll drink it when I’m sorry.
You thought that soon I’d be tangled in your motor, smoking, black and blue, but no.
I no longer wish to touch you.
I just wish not to want to.
You were golden by the fire in the outline of a silver moon.
I saved every shiny teardrop because I thought they’d turn to silver too.
But they melted after winter and left a puddle that revealed the truth.
You’re just a pretty case of pretty pills.
I’ll leave you by the road where someone will find you and swallow what I did.
Someone will take you home, dear.
She’ll stare too long into a mirror of tears, fall in love with herself and drown there
And they’ll call it an accident
