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Paint It Blacker

アーティスト：Plan B 

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Oi! Oi! what you fucking doing? That's my car mate, Seriously stop doing that man. Oi! Come on that's my car bro. Right, give me that fucking can, give me that fucking brush you cunt, Give me that fucking can. Oi! Come back here. Once upon a time there was a guy called Mick Who was walking down the street one day and just switched. So many pretty colours made him sick, So he bought a can of paint and a brush to paint blick All the whips that he passed that were parked on the street, And all the front doors on the yards full of peeps, all the cars and the jeeps That were black, he leaves The paint in his can For the reds and the greens And the ones in between, like purple and brown. You could paint on them straight, not circle around. He weren't happy till he saw them blacked out, Had a look on his eyes like he was cracked out, Looking macked out with a trench coat and his back slouched, Paint black out, and leave everything as black now, Not leaving even one stone unturned. He remember shit turns black when it burns, so he burns All the leaves and the trees in the park That are marked with "I was here and so was Mark" inside a heart, Engraved by kids bunking school in the park, young love, They thought they'd be together for eternity, But the flame went out like these burning trees That are now the colour Mick wants to see: Charcoal Black with a capital B. I see a red door and I want it painted black, No colours anymore I want them to turn black. I see the girls walk by dressed in their Summer clothes, I have to turn my head until my darkness goes. Mick sees the girls walk by in the Summer clothes, For a split second his darkness goes, But it ain't long till he's back in his darkest mould And the darkness grows, He turns his head back, So he can paint black the red rose, He snatched from the bush that is black 'Cause he painted that with a brush in his hand. And the paint in his can that is now on the van, Eight cars and two jeeps that are parked on the street, And all the front doors in the yard full of peeps. A dead green seagull by his feet that is turning blue Makes him weep, Tears start streaming down his cheek As they fall from his chin onto the beak Of the bird that is laying in the gutter of the street, By the kerb. Something's going on, something deep and absurd inside of Mick's head: Why does he care so much? Give a shit that it's dead? I guess we'll never know What's up with this tortured soul, Painting shit black As he turns a dead seagull that from front to back.



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投稿者： PetitLyrics
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