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letras de
Ani Difranco
PULSE
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Letra y Significado de
PULSE,
Ani Difranco
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Letra
Oh no! Esta misteriosa letra aun no encontro explicación. Si estas acá, podes ser la primer persona que aporte el significado de esta canción. No es necesario registrarse, puede ser anonimo. Hace clic en el botón verde y envianos tu opinión.
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You crawled into my bed
like some sort of giant insect
and i found myself spellbound
at the sight of you there
cocooned in my room,
beautiful and grotesque and all the rest of that bug stuff
bluffing your way into my mouth
behind my teeth, reaching for my scars
that night we got kicked out of two bars
and laughed our way home
That night you leaned over
and threw up into your hair
and i thought
i would offer you my pulse
if i thought it would be useful
i would give you my breath
except
the problem with death is that you have
some hundred years and then they can
build building on your only bones
100 years and then your grave is not your own
we lie in out beds, and our graves
unable to save ourselves from
the quaint tragedies we invent
and then undo from the stupid circumstances
we slalomed through
and i realized that night that the hall light
which seemed so bright when you turned it on is nothing
compared to the dawn
which is nothing, compared to the light
which seeps from me while you're sleeping
cocooned in my room
beautiful and grotesque resting
that night we got kicked out of two bars
and laughed our way home
and i held you there thinking
i would offer you my pulse
i would give you my breath
i would offer you my pulse
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Corregir Letra
You crawled into my bed like some sort of giant insect and i found myself spellbound at the sight of you there cocooned in my room, beautiful and grotesque and all the rest of that bug stuff bluffing your way into my mouth behind my teeth, reaching for my scars that night we got kicked out of two bars and laughed our way home That night you leaned over and threw up into your hair and i thought i would offer you my pulse if i thought it would be useful i would give you my breath except the problem with death is that you have some hundred years and then they can build building on your only bones 100 years and then your grave is not your own we lie in out beds, and our graves unable to save ourselves from the quaint tragedies we invent and then undo from the stupid circumstances we slalomed through and i realized that night that the hall light which seemed so bright when you turned it on is nothing compared to the dawn which is nothing, compared to the light which seeps from me while you're sleeping cocooned in my room beautiful and grotesque resting that night we got kicked out of two bars and laughed our way home and i held you there thinking i would offer you my pulse i would give you my breath i would offer you my pulse
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