Sangtekst: Regina Spektor. Consequence Of Sounds.

My rhyme ain't good just yet
My brain and tongue just met
And they ain't friends so far
My words don't travel far
They tangle in my hair
And tend to go nowhere
They grow right back inside
Right past my brain and eyes
Into my stomach juice
Where they don't serve much use
No healthy calories
Nutrition values
And i absorb back in
The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds

Got a soundtrack in my mind
All the time
Kids screaming from too much beat up and they don't even rhyme
They just stand there on a street corner
Skin tucked in and meat side out
And shouting - i'd like to turn them down but there ain't no knob
Born into picket fences
Not into picket lines
All this hippie shit's for the sixties
Only cliche in our times, but
What if one of these days your heart will just stop ticking
And they sort of just don't find you till your cubicle is reeking?
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds

Did you know that the gravedigger's still getting stuck in the machine
Even though it's a whole other daydream?
It's another town, it's another world
Where the kid's asleep, and the loans are paid, and the lawns are mowed
What'd you think--all the gravediggers were gone just cause one song is done?
There's always another one
Waiting right around the bend
Till this one ends
Then it begins squeaky clean and it starts all over again

The weather report keeps on tossing and turning
Predicting and warning and warning and warning of
Possible leakage from news publications and
Possible leakage from news tv stations, that
Very same morning right next to her coffee
She noticed some bleeding and heard hollow coughing
The national geographic was being too graphic
When all she had wanted to know was the traffic

The world's got a nosebleed, it said, and we're flooding
But we keep on cutting the trees in the forest
And we keep on paying those freaks on the tv
Who claim they will save us but want to enslave us and
Sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
But we leave the sound on cause silence is harder and
No one's the killer and no one's the martyr
The world that has made us can no longer contain us
And prophets are silent and rotting away cause
The consonants and vowels
The consequence of sounds