Letra de Lark Descending
My hands are stained with thistle milk And I can see what a fool I've been My hands are stained with thistle milk Look at the state it's got me inTrying to be Mansfield's very own Trying to be Mansfield's very own Steve Malkmus Steve Malkmus Steve Malkmus Steve MalkmusThe fire that burned inside of me Has sank rapidly into vagrancy and chill And now my hours of happiness Are darkened by the thought they are passing towards nothingYeah that was me, down at Camber Sands Signing in to my chalet as J Buckley J Buckley J Buckley UnlikelyI should have just got a job on the bins The pay's better and I'd know some hard blokes And I wouldn't have to pretend That I know what "rhetorical" meansI could have been like Lou Barlow But I'm more like Ken Barlow I could have been like Lou Barlow But I'm more like Ken Barlow I could have been like Lou Barlow But I'm more like Ken Barlow I could have been like Lou Barlow But I'm more like Ken Barlow