deafening tunes #16

the russian futurists - hurtin' 4 certain

i'm hurtin', vultures are circlin', it never gets better, it never gets better
if things worsen i'll close this curtain, but never say never, say never, say never
i've got a million things to tell you, i can't think of the words 'cause they all fell through
and boy did you say a mouthful, and our happy ending is still real doubtful
i'm not pining or being dramatic, or longing for things stored up in the attic but
i'm hurtin', vultures are circlin', it never gets better, it never gets better
if things worsen i'll close this curtain, but never say never, say never, say never
instability's killin' me with its tight grip; it's a day that won't end, an endless nightshift
the way bourbon disturbs the words I'm wording, it's a drink it's a sip, it's the iceberg's tip
where do the years go? 'cause i'm fearful
we can't get all of them back, the leaves just fall and they crack
where does the time go? how should i know?
and then the leaves turn to brown, another year turns around

is there some sound that you hear before it all disappears?
does some siren go off before everything is lost?
is there a ringing of bells before it all goes to hell?
we need emergency tests for things submerged in our chests
you said your heart's on the mend and all of your starts turn to ends
and things go up in a puff of smoke, enough is enough

the plot thickens, clocks are tock-tickin' and each time that we meet my heartbeat quickens
i can't wait until summer's September, past the ash and the coals down to the embers