Otros Ejercicios
Messes Of Men 
Hard
de MewithoutYou
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I do not exist, but faithfully insist
in our separate ships
and from each tiny caravelle
and there's unnecessary dying
like the crab in its proper seasons sheds its shell
Such from our friends
like a scratch a lens,
everything wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd the bay,
so half-blind we wrote these songs on sheets of salty wood
me making eyes at the other boatman's wives,
and heard me laughing at the jokes told by their daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a steady hand to navigate adulterous waters
The propeller's spinning blades held acquaintance the waves
as there's mistakes I've no rowing outrun
The cloth on the mast to say I've got no past
but I'm nonetheless the librarian and secretary's son
with on my brass and mildew on my glass,
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone me
but a few off the shore, I bit a flashing lure
and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be!
I still its kiss, dull in my lip
is a as useless as a rod without a reel
To an anchor ever-dropped, seasick yet still docked
spotted napping with his at the wheel,
floating forgetfully along, no need to be strong
We keep our confessions long and we we keep it short
I a thimble of fire and I'm not coming back
Oh, my God!
I do not exist we faithfully insist
while watching sink the heavy ship of everything we knew
If you I'll hold up high a mirror
Lord, I could show you as as You
in our separate ships
and from each tiny caravelle
and there's unnecessary dying
like the crab in its proper seasons sheds its shell
Such from our friends
like a scratch a lens,
everything wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd the bay,
so half-blind we wrote these songs on sheets of salty wood
me making eyes at the other boatman's wives,
and heard me laughing at the jokes told by their daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a steady hand to navigate adulterous waters
The propeller's spinning blades held acquaintance the waves
as there's mistakes I've no rowing outrun
The cloth on the mast to say I've got no past
but I'm nonetheless the librarian and secretary's son
with on my brass and mildew on my glass,
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone me
but a few off the shore, I bit a flashing lure
and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be!
I still its kiss, dull in my lip
is a as useless as a rod without a reel
To an anchor ever-dropped, seasick yet still docked
spotted napping with his at the wheel,
floating forgetfully along, no need to be strong
We keep our confessions long and we we keep it short
I a thimble of fire and I'm not coming back
Oh, my God!
I do not exist we faithfully insist
while watching sink the heavy ship of everything we knew
If you I'll hold up high a mirror
Lord, I could show you as as You
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