Teksty: Cousteau. Sirena. (Damn These) Hungry Times.

It's so formless
That's what killing me
Remorseless,
relentless and its endlessly
This pressure
On pleasures hard to find
It's expression
Walks amongst these hungry times
Like the blues
made flesh

And so it goes?
What of this can we keep
We're scratching out a living here
Where living is dear and life is cheap
So we pray
to all of the gods who'll listen
Deliver me, consider me
Get rid of these hostilities at my shoes
How can it be true, I?

I'll toe the line
But damn these hungry times
Just a little would taste so fine
But damn these hungry times

I'm suspicius
If love don't leave no scars
Between its kisses,
Its curses and its calm
You know it won't do
If love's enough to eat
Then we'd hunger
And on the licks of love we'd feast
Till we're ghosts?
Of a memory?