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comte de rochambeau
Paulie Swan
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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(Mon petit chou)
A man overshadowed by his hands
And their black puppets dancing on the wall
The tungsten tells me names are supposed to stretch a mile on
But I need your voice to sleep
I can't watch you break your jaw
Their fingers are making a mockery of me
Baptised by the crying sky in California
Sandy's pitching elbow rumbled down
The left of God was burning for more war upon the mound
'Cause Koufax was a lion once
But he got to keep the crown
Oh, my fingers are making a mockery of me
ย
A bid to live forever stuck throwing stones through paper walls
My pride is draped in the clutches of ambition's lying coat
These crows found a home
I'll hold my tongue
But the beautiful are all too soon confounded with the young
And your fingers are making a mockery of me
ย