La Dispute - Five текст песни

Sure, I know that you are tired of hearing about it, but
most repeat the same theme over and over again,
it's as if they were trying to refine what seems so strange
and off and important to them,
it's done by everybody because each must work out what is before them
over and over again because
that is their personal tiny miracle.

Like now as like before and before I have been listening to symphony after
symphony from this radio

Makes me realize that certain people now long dead were able to
transgress graveyards and traps and cages and bones and limbs.
In tiny rented rooms I was struck by miracles.

The flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and
sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls
and the men (they) drink too much
and nobody finds the one
but keep looking, crawling in and out of beds.

Flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh.
There is a loneliness in this world so great,
that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock.

People so tired, mutilated either by love or no love.
People just are not good to each other
we are afraid.

Our educational system tells us that we can all be big winners.
It hasn't told us about the gutters or the suicides.
Or the terror of one person aching in one place alone

Untouched, unspoken to
people are not good to each other.
People are not good to each other.
I suppose they never will be.
I don't ask them to be.

But sometimes I think about it.
There must be a way.
Surely there must be a way that we have not yet thought of.
There's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate.
Nobody ever finds the one.

Who put this brain inside of me?
It cries, it demands, it says that there is a chance.
It has kept the rope from my throat
Maybe it will loosen yours.

The city dumps fill, the junkyards fill
The madhouses fill, the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
Nothing else fills.