More songs by NewDad
Description
The heart is left wide open, and the city quietly licks up its pieces like a thieving confectioner. The sore spot of memories turns into a strange ritual: fragility is served like a drug, and self-flagellation suddenly seems like a spicy hobby. The vocals are like a knife that is sharpened quickly: the pain is clear and almost precise. What remains is the bitter taste of truth and a light, almost indulgent irony about how the habit of torment manages to return home.
Lyrics and translation
Original
Left the gates of my heart open
In hopes yours would be too
But with too much wishful thinking
Bit off more than I could chew
I fear my love's been stolen
By this city and its thieves
Feel like I've been spit out
In a static state of grief
And it kills me quickly
The knife moves swiftly
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Resting in the coffin
I just let the soil fall
And I could cry out, "Save me"
But I don't bother to call
I fear it's my own doing
The rotting, the decay
'Cause I forced myself to take it
When I didn't need to stay
Now I can't swallow
The truth tastes awful
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
English translation
Left the gates of my heart open
In hopes yours would be too
But with too much wishful thinking
Bit off more than I could chew
I fear my love's been stolen
By this city and its thieves
Feel like I've been spit out
In a static state of grief
And it kills me quickly
The knife moves swiftly
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Resting in the coffin
I just let the soil fall
And I could cry out, "Save me"
But I don't bother to call
I fear it's my own doing
The rotting, the decay
'Cause I forced myself to take it
When I didn't need to stay
Now I can't swallow
The truth tastes awful
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history
Is it a strange obsession?
Yeah, a sort of addiction
A bit of a kink for self-affliction
Is it a bit of lust for misery?
Because her and I have history