04 - Linkin Park - "Hybrid Theory" (1999)
And One
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Текст песни "04 - Linkin Park - "Hybrid Theory" (1999) — And One"
Where should I start
Disjointed heart
I’ve got no commitment
To my own flesh and blood
Left all alone
Far from my home
No one to hear me, to heal my ill heart, I
Keep it locked up inside
Cannot express
To the point I’ve regressed
If anger’s a gift, then I guess I’ve been blessed, I
Keep it locked up inside
Keep my distance from your lies
It’s too late to love me now
You helped me to show me
It’s too late to love me now
You don’t take a word in
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Break)
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace (Me)
Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Too)
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Keep it locked up inside
Keep my distance from your lies
Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Break)
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace (Me)
Breaking a part of my heart to find release (Too)
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Keep my distance
Keep my distance
Keep my distance
Keep my distance
Spit drips in the jar, the witless witness
Cryptic code, realism shifts your mystic
Dark all I do embark the shadows,
Involved with my thought catalogue, analogue, rap catalogue
Keep my distance, answer your resistance, hurt by persistance,
The twisted web of tangled lies strangles my hope to waste and numbs the taste
And I’m forced to face these hate crimes against the state of being
Feeling the weightlessness pressing between the ceiling, reeling around room,
Riding a bubble of sound proof, it’s the frequency making you
Shake-shake with every boom
Involuntary muscle contraction, ignoring and drinking musical gas field euphoria
The sound counts to make the dead flush to have you a head rush with red thoughts and said stuff.