The City Has Sex - Bright Eyes

The city has sex with itself, I suppose

As the concrete collides while the scenery grows

And the lonely, once bandaged, lay fully exposed

Having undressed their wounds for each other

And there’s a boy in a basement with a four-track machine

He’s been strumming and screaming all night, down there

The tape hiss will cover the words that he sings

They say it’s better to bury your sadness

In a graveyard or garden that waits for the spring to

Awake from its sleep

And burst into green

Well I’ve cried

And you’d think I’d be better for it

But the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine

For the rest of my life

And I’ve learned and you’d think I’d be something more now

But it just goes to show it is not what you know

It is what you were thinking

At the time

This feeling’s familiar, I’ve been here before

In a kitchen this quiet I waited for

A sign or just something that might reassure me of anything close To meaning or

motion with a reason to move

I need something I want to be close to

And I scream

But I still don’t know why I do it

Because the sound never stays, it just swells and decays

So what is the point?

Why try to fight what is now so certain?

The truth is all that I am is a passing event

That will be forgotten