Mountains Make Me Crazy - The Weeks

These mountains make me crazy

My legs can’t seem to stand

«And I’ll be leaving in the morning with or without you» she said

If I’m breaking what I’m building

I’ve ripped out every single stone

And you can break my soul or bones girl but you can’t destroy my home

No you can’t destroy my home

If the street lights they all flicker

Just like candles in the street

I will give my soul to strangers and let the bastards sell it cheap

I’ve seen girls out on the street, lord

Men drunk on the boulevard

The kings all know my face lord and the jokers pulled my card

Oh, the jokers pulled my card

They say that that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

And I should be pretty strong or so it seems

Cause I almost died a thousand times

Oh, death it follows me

I guess that’s what separates us gods from kings

We will plant our dead in boxes

And pray to god that something grows

Leave the widow on her knees, Boys

Dressed in black with empty hopes

The children’s screams are crazy

Their eyes are blacked out from the smoke

I can spare my bread and water, but I cannot spare my coat

No, I cannot spare my coat

Don’t damn my imagination

Cause my dreams are all I have

Well In the day its damp and dirty

But when I sleep it’s not that bad

Dirty hands they cling to boxcars

Tender tears stain frozen cheeks

We’re all searching for salvation but we won’t find it in these streets

We won’t find it in these streets

They say that that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

And I should be pretty strong or so it seems

Cause I almost died a thousand times

Oh, death it follows me

I guess that’s what separates us gods from kings

Everybody lives for something

I guess I must live to think

You can have my thoughts at half the cost

Because I think they’re killing me

The tree lines weave through fields

Giant serpents of the south

I’ve seen the sun set on the ocean

I’ve seen the daylight drown itself

Poets drink their whiskey

They point out problems in our lives

Well you will never read his notebooks

He won’t be famous till he dies

Well without our hearts we’re nothing

And without our spines we’re weak

You can pump my blood or hold me up but that still want make me free

No that still won’t make me free