Текст песни Impossible Story - Urthboy
I
could
never
tell
you
The
impossible
story
Words
will
never
get
close
to
The
colour
of
your
mourning
You
know
that
I
am
so
sincere
But
what
is
that
helping?
I
won't
be
the
author
of
a
story
That
is
not
mine
to
tell
Make
the
fuckers
talk
Standing
in
the
flame
of
fire
Say
it
like
it
is
Shout
it
like
you're
in
the
fire
As
angry
and
as
urgent
as
a
teen
I
try
to
set
the
scene,
natural
human
instinct
is
to
intervene
The
same
that
cut
the
ones
who
dare
to
dream
Cos
shit
is
so
naive,
are
cutting
down
the
very
thing
that
the
people
need
Cos
everything
is
already
been
seen
And
already
been
deemed
to
be
agreed
and
disagreed
And
it
seems/
we're
first
past
the
post
steez
In
a
post
modern
post
truth
world
truth's
ghostly
For
what
it's
worth
you
can
quote
me
and
I'm
a
lay
it
like
an
IED
and
trigger
it
remotely
No
wonder
these
bars
get
banked
with
boasting
Privilege
does
not
necessarily
mean
you're
coasting
So
keep
a
pin
close
to
burst
the
bubble
Of
some
earnest
motherfucker
that
has
gone
to
the
trouble
Of
being
a
grave
digger
digging
the
dead
to
life
There's
nothing
to
suggest
that
salvation
will
arrive
And
to
remind
me
of
it
is
so
contrived
I
don't
need
a
broken
record
to
bring
me
down
off
my
high
I
just
need
these
green
eyes
to
roll
back
and
sigh
As
much
as
I
wish
that
I
had
the
answer
why
Make
the
fuckers
talk
Standing
in
the
flame
of
fire
Say
it
like
it
is
Shout
it
like
you're
in
the
fire
I
could
never
tell
you
The
impossible
story
Words
will
never
get
close
to
The
colour
of
your
morning
You
know
that
I
am
so
sincere
But
what
is
that
helping
I
can't
be
the
author
of
a
story
That
is
not
mine
to
tell
This
is
not
the
body
that
has
grown
out
of
a
squalor
This
is
not
the
optimism
born
from
living
horror
The
guilt
could
make
a
brother
wanna
lose
a
white
collar
But
uh/
he
need
it
today
he'll
give
it
up
tomorra
The
dirt
under
the
fingernails
was
never
the
grains
That
the
bones
had
replaced
in
a
rubbish
tip
grave
The
sweat
they
wiped
off
when
they
put
their
knives
away
Is
the
same
sweat
we
get
when
we
dance
the
night
away
And
if
I
could
turn
the
sun
around
and
illuminate
the
hell
Cos
you
best
believe
it
can
be
found
where
humanity
dwell
And
I
could
write
a
book
about
a
book
that
wouldn't
sell
Be
the
author
of
a
story
that
was
never
mine
to
tell
but/
Where
would
that
lead
us?
Preach
To
believers/
we're
needing
relievers
but
I
am
no
teacher
and
you
resent
the
grievance
But
if
I
don't
at
least
try
it's
like
I
deceived
yaz
The
story
must
be
told/
some
narratives
must
But
it
won't
be
delivered
by
the
man
in
the
tux
Nor
will
it
be
heard
over
the
inner
city
folk
Saying
fuck
it
all
fuck
it
all
fuck
it
all
for
all
12
months
I
could
never
tell
you
The
impossible
story
Words
will
never
get
close
to
The
colour
of
your
morning
You
know
that
I
am
so
sincere
But
what
is
that
helping
I
can't
be
the
author
of
a
story
That
is
not
mine
to
tell
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