Non Prophets Lyrics

Album: Unknown

The Cure Lyrics

Don't deny that sick feeling in your stomach you can't run from it

 let it guide you into high view and move beyond the summit

 from peeks to valleys speed through alleys if it's done quick

 you'll have time to find the caves where the days are never sunlit

 

 find the scriptures made by a society of blind men

 who suggest the best direction's where you most likely will find them..

 dead set on checkmates embracing a chess set

 when bedspreads get wet they're left with the scent of death threats

 

 in 7 seconds I'll become undone, I'm breaking through

 if you're around by the time I reach number one I'm taking you

 You're not the traveling type? Then hide your baggage better

 before you die a normal death and write the average letter

 

 about your internal furnace

 and how life's a sexually transmitted disease that you contracted from her kiss

 when a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words if

 a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive

 

 I'm searching for the cure

 this is a sickness

 can you hear me, love?

 

 I kick dirt for what it's worth listening to the birds chirp

 the same cryptic speech that the breeze speaks and sea repeats

 recognizing the cycles with every passing day

 writing full demands in the sand with my toe til crashing waves washed it away

 

 I watch what I say now but I hate it

 trying to make my mark, afraid of the dark nature of vague statements

 that plague vacant parking lots where shopping carts go uncollected

 that sick feeling in my stomach start to leave my heart and soul infected

 

 I won't accept it. I do my best to reject patterns til it hurts

 every second making bad turns for the worse

 she's getting further away I can feel it in the way my bones ache

 The ocean sealed it's lips, now the waves won't break

 

 The secrets it won't say has got us trying to break codes in churches

 and lately I've been hating its soul purpose

 when a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words if

 a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive

 

 I'm searching for the cure

 this is a sickness

 can you hear me, love?

 

 Now I look for air pockets to pick, walk with a stick, start picking locks with it

 opening up heart-shaped lockets with little arguments

 the tawdry trinkets start to split and contradict

 those who say one thing but think the opposite

 

 I bit the dust tongue kissing documents in a smoke stack

 faith is harder to swallow than pride it, turns our throats black

 I want my home back. I know that's not an available option

 it's the way that I'm walking in between a cradle and coffin

 

 that makes me pace myself. if half the battle is done right

 the other half won't take my health while jacking my shadow's sunlight

 to crack it open and find the space between my breaths are desolate

 life is just a lie with an "f" in it and death is definite

 

 But after I scratched the surface

 I never saw the calm before the storm act so nervous

 when a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words if

 a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive

 

 I'm searching for her

 Can you hear me, love?