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Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple
Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple
Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple
Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple

There are times I think eternal life ain’t such a bad gig
Smoke all you want and see the planets
If and only if they find a way to cure the longing
The distant panic

Someday, I’m telling you
They’ll make a memory machine
To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
To wash away the grief

Someday, I’m telling you
They’ll make a memory machine
To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
To wash away the grief

There are folks that say to have a soul you’ve got to suffer
Well lately I’ve had my RDA of that
And call it fascist but I know that someday happy
Will be all that matters

Someday, I’m telling you
They’ll make a memory machine
To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
To wash away the grief

Someday, I’m telling you
They’ll make a memory machine
To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
To wash away the grief

Poetry, Aldous Huxley—yeah, yeah, yeah, it’ll be a relief
If they can make machines to save us labor
Someday they’ll do our hearts the very same favor
The wails of ruined lives brought to a halt
By the serene hum of computers in air-conditioned vaults

Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple
Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple
Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple
Red wire - right temple
Black wire - left temple

Text přidal Sigur

Videa přidal Sigur

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