Punching the Flowers
Death Cab For Cutie"Punching the Flowers" es una canción de Death Cab For Cutie, 2026, Pop. La canción dura 3:05, 43 lines / 302 words.
Letra
0:06In his search
0:10For the end of the circle
0:12He kept arriving back at the start
0:16Having fell every hurdle
0:19And she tried to make him feel better
0:23But he didn't wanna feel better
0:25'Cause he was living for the wandering
0:29His heart like a dead letter
0:33It always seemed he was punching the flowers
0:36Ruminating like a fatalist for hours
0:39With a voice like the sound of slamming doors
0:42In a voice like the sound of slamming doors
0:58And it seemed
1:02He had mildew on his soul
1:05From standing at the coastline
1:08Wishing it would swallow him whole
1:11And she tried to console him
1:15But he wanted to go it alone
1:17Because he'd never been alone
1:21Or felt the myth of control
1:24It always seemed he was punching the flowers
1:28Ruminating like a fatalist for hours
1:31With a voice like the sound of slamming doors
1:34In a voice like the sound of slamming doors
1:37It always seemed he was punching the flowers
1:41Taking for granted the sweetness til it soured
1:44And when he spoke it was the sound of slamming doors
1:47All she heard was the sound of slamming doors
2:03Words were sharpened like axes
2:07And he swung them blindly around
2:10With no regard for the dangers
2:14And slashed her to the ground
2:16And I'm not sure which is worse
2:20If God laughs or he doesn't
2:23And I'm not sure which is worse
2:26If it was love or it wasn't
2:32If it was love or it wasn't
2:42It always seemed he was punching the flowers
2:45Taking for granted the sweetness til it soured
2:49And when he spoke it was the sound of slamming doors
2:52All she heard was the sound of slamming doors
2:59All she heard was the sound of slamming doors
3:05All she heard was the sound of slamming doors
In his search For the end of the circle He kept arriving back at the start Having fell every hurdle And she tried to make him feel better But he didn't wanna feel better 'Cause he was living for the wandering His heart like a dead letter It always seemed he was punching the flowers Ruminating like a fatalist for hours With a voice like the sound of slamming doors In a voice like the sound of slamming doors And it seemed He had mildew on his soul From standing at the coastline Wishing it would swallow him whole And she tried to console him But he wanted to go it alone Because he'd never been alone Or felt the myth of control It always seemed he was punching the flowers Ruminating like a fatalist for hours With a voice like the sound of slamming doors In a voice like the sound of slamming doors It always seemed he was punching the flowers Taking for granted the sweetness til it soured And when he spoke it was the sound of slamming doors All she heard was the sound of slamming doors Words were sharpened like axes And he swung them blindly around With no regard for the dangers And slashed her to the ground And I'm not sure which is worse If God laughs or he doesn't And I'm not sure which is worse If it was love or it wasn't If it was love or it wasn't It always seemed he was punching the flowers Taking for granted the sweetness til it soured And when he spoke it was the sound of slamming doors All she heard was the sound of slamming doors All she heard was the sound of slamming doors All she heard was the sound of slamming doors
Traducción
Selecciona un idioma para ver la traducción.