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Beck - Curses Lyrics



Beck - Curses Lyrics




Curses I send,
On these countless men,
Curses on their trespasses,
Will they never end?
Curses on their blades,
On the spare and open lanes,
Once I've been searching,
Recipe acclaim (??).
Curses on their children,
Running all around,
Making such a business
While I'm rusting in the ground,
I might rise up to meet them
When they leave this life,
Might rise up to eat them
When they leave this life.
Curses on this valley,
And the lands on up ahead,
I was on my way to meet them
When they found me dead,
And I clapped my brittle hands,
And I made them join my game,
Now I hope they all decease,
And marry a man in shame.
Curse every word
That's planted on their lips,
Curse the sleek machine
And their iron colored ships,
Curse every wave that
Pounds a wicked shore,
Curse every salesman
Knocking on their door.
And I am not a creature,
And I am not a dog,
I have no claim to be there
In the evening fog,
And I am not a bone
Staring through the air,
Have no say in anything,
My tongue is barely there.
Curses on curses,
I see no other way,
Some of them are weeping,
And some of them gay,
Some of them have worn
So deep they feel no pain,
Curses on their fingers,
Curses on their brains.
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Curses I send,
On these countless men,
Curses on their trespasses,
Will they never end?
Curses on their blades,
On the spare and open lanes,
Once I've been searching,
Recipe acclaim (??).
Curses on their children,
Running all around,
Making such a business
While I'm rusting in the ground,
I might rise up to meet them
When they leave this life,
Might rise up to eat them
When they leave this life.
Curses on this valley,
And the lands on up ahead,
I was on my way to meet them
When they found me dead,
And I clapped my brittle hands,
And I made them join my game,
Now I hope they all decease,
And marry a man in shame.
Curse every word
That's planted on their lips,
Curse the sleek machine
And their iron colored ships,
Curse every wave that
Pounds a wicked shore,
Curse every salesman
Knocking on their door.
And I am not a creature,
And I am not a dog,
I have no claim to be there
In the evening fog,
And I am not a bone
Staring through the air,
Have no say in anything,
My tongue is barely there.
Curses on curses,
I see no other way,
Some of them are weeping,
And some of them gay,
Some of them have worn
So deep they feel no pain,
Curses on their fingers,
Curses on their brains.
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