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The Postal Service




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  T  →  The Postal Service  →  Albums  →  Give Up

The Postal Service Album


Give Up (2003)
2003
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Smeared black ink... your palms are sweaty
And I'm barely listening to last demands
I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath
Where I am
Where I am

I'll wear my badge... a vinyl sticker with big block letters adherent to my
chest
That tells your new friends I am a visitor here...
I am not permanent
And the only thing keeping me dry is
Where I am
Where I am
Where I am

You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
A stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving
Why I was the one worth leaving

D.C. sleeps alone tonight

Where I am
Where I am
Where I am

You seem so so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
A stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving
Why I was the one worth leaving

Where I am
Where I am
Where I am

The district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights
And send the autos swerving into the loneliest evening
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving
Why I was the one worth leaving
Why I was the one worth leaving

. . .



I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay
And true, it may seem like a stretch, but
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when you're away when I am missing you to death
When you are out there on the road for
Several weeks of shows and when you scan
The radio, I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,
'come down now,' but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded
Thin upon listening
And that frankly will not fly. You will hear
The shrillest highs and lowest lows with

. . .



Last week I had the strangest dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed
Where there was never any mystery on who shot john f kennedy
It was just a man with something to prove
Slightly bored and severely confused
He steadied his rifle with his target in the center
And became famous on that day in november

Dont wake me I plan on sleeping
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping in
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping in

And then last night I had that strange dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed
Where concerns about the world getting warmer
The people thought they were just being rewarded
For treating others as they like to be treated
For obeying stop signs and curing diseases
For mailing letters with the address of the sender
Now we can swim any day in november

Dont wake me I plan on sleeping
(now we can swim any day in november)
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping in
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping in

Dont wake me I plan on sleeping in
Dont wake me I plan on sleeping

. . .



Will someone please call a surgeon
Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart
That your're deserting for better company?
I can't accept that it's over...
I will block the door like a goalie tending the net
In the third quarter of a tied-game rivalry

So just say how to make it right
And I swear i'll do my best to comply

Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better
Than making you my bride and slowly growing old together

I feel must interject here you're getting carried away feeling sorry for
yourself
With these revisions and gaps in history
So let me help you remember.
I've made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear.
I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave

So please back away and let me go
I can't my darling I love you so...

Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better
Than making you my bride and slowly growing old together
Don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future
Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures

I admit that I have made mistakes and I swear
I'll never wrong you again
You've got a lure I can't deny,
But you've had your chance so say goodbye

. . .



I take a breath and pull the air in 'til there's nothing left
I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets

Ba ba ba ba ...

Knuckles clenched to white as the landing gear retract for flight
My head's a balloon inflating with the altitude

Ba ba ba ba...

I watch the patchwork farms' slow fade into the ocean's arms
And from here they can't see me stare
The stale taste of recycled air
I watch the patchwork farms' slow fade into the ocean's arms
Calm down, release your cares

. . .



I was waiting for a cross-town train in the london underground
When it struck me that I've been waiting since birth to find
A love that would look and sound like a movie so I changed
My plans and rented a camera and a van and then I called you
"I need you to pretend that we are in love again" and you agreed to

I want so badly to believe that "there is truth, that love is real"
And I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd
I greased the lens and framed the shot using a friend as my stand-in
The script it called for rain but it was clear that day so we faked it
The marker snapped and I yelled "quiet on the set"
And then called "action!"
And I kissed you in a style that clark gable would have admired
(I thought it classic)

I want so badly to believe that "there is truth, that love is real"
And I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd
I know you're wise beyond your years, but do you ever get the fear

. . .



I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water,
And pictures of you and i'm not coming out
Until this is all over
And i'm looking through the glass where the light bends
At the cracks
And i'm screaming at the top of my lungs pretending
The echoes belong to someone
Someone I used to know

And we become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
Ba ba ba...

I wanted to walk through the empty streets
And feel something constant under my feet,
But all the news reports recommended that
I stay indoors
Because the air outside will make our cells
Divide at an alarming rate until our shells
Simply cannot hold all our insides in,
And that's when we'll explode
(and it won't be a pretty sight)

And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
Ba ba ba...
And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
Ba ba ba...
And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
Ba ba ba...
And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
Ba ba ba...

And we'll become

. . .



This place is a prison
And these people aren't your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
And again

There're guards at the on ramps armed to the teeth
And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound,
But you are not permitted to leave

I know there's a big world out there like the one I saw on the screen
In my living room late last night,
It was almost too bright to see
And I know that it's not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there's glamour and candelabra
When you're drinking by candlelight

What does it take to get a drink in this place?


. . .



I'll be the grapes fermented,
Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit
Like a perfect gentlemen
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick
Where you will sit and contemplate your day

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you start drowning
In an open tab when your judgement's on the brink
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
Albums back as your lying there drifting off to sleep...
I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you...
You won't have to strain to look into my eyes
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zippedstraight to the throat
With the collar up so you won't catch a cold

I want to take you far from the cynics int his town
And kiss you on the mouth
We'll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene,
Start a brand new colony
Where everything will change,
We'll give ourselves new names (identities erased)
The sun will heat the grounds
Under our bare feet in this brand new colony

. . .



I'll write you a song and it won't be hard to sing
It will be a natural anthem, familiar it will seem
It will rally all the workers on strike for better pay
And its chorus will resound and boost morale throughout the day

I'll write you a song and I hope that you won't mind
Because all the names and places I have taken from real life
So please don't be upset at this portrait that I paint

. . .


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