Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Nervous Breakdown (The Indian Wind)

NERVOUS BREAKDOWN (THE INDIAN WIND) - Written by Carroll Bryant


I gaze at the stars and I see someone 
Gazing back at me
The moon is sad because it's made of cheese
And the indian wind blows
The indian dances to the fire
The indian wind blows

As meaningless as time appears to be
It means nothing
Hands of a clock
Hands of time release me
And the indian wind blows
The indian is standing in the fire
The indian wind blows

Save me from the slaves
A flower grows inside my brain
The mushrooms are killing me
And I get so isolated laying in my grave
I feel so tired
I feel so all alone
The flower grows
Watch the flower grow 

I can't escape your petty pain
Your pathetic little lives are meaningless to me
I am not your soul
I am not your shame
The flower tries to grow in the chance
That it will rain

Legends live
Legends die
Run with me to suicide

I'll take you to that place
I'll take you to that hell
Eat your faithful heart
And die until you're dead with me

I want your company
I need you my love
And the indian wind blows
The indian is pointing at me from the fire
The indian wind blows

Poets live and poets die
Make love in my suicide 
I'll take you to that place
I'll take you to that hell
Eat your poisoned heart
And lie to you
You know I will

Am I the oracle that rapes you of your sin?
Can't I judge and not be true to the consequence? 

Lovers live and lovers die
Be born into a suicide 
I'll take you to that place
I'll take you to that hell
Eat your beating heart
And in your ruse I'll dwell

I need you my love

The indian wind blows
The indian holds me in the fire
The indian wind blows






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