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Les histoires d'amour finissent mal en général, that's what this Rowland S. Howardesque cavalcade is about

lyrics

Send this to yer mother
Tell her it comes from me
Make sure you tell her
I wrapped it up neatly
She was right from the start
When she said I was no good
Risking the gallows for me
In fact he'd do me a favour
By getting rid of me
So go tell yer brother
Tell him to take it easy

And as for all our friends
They all took sides with you
They'll hate me 'til the end
And I deserve it true
So what else could I do
'Xcept pack my stuff and go
Where the heart won't feel that cold
And I won't think of you

Deprecation
Reprobatio
Self-loathing
Self-mutilating

They say Farewell is a cruel word
But all the words that I have heard
They sucked the warmth right out of me
Leave me dead as a Christmas tree
So while you smiled and played the harp
I didn't see your teeth were sharp
Once they were planted in my neck
It was too late now I'm a wreck
So go on, show off your despair
Wearing your most appealing air
You will fool everyone I know
But for me it is time to go
Life it sometimes takes strange turns
One hand caresses the other burns
Love it strange times has strange twists
The left hand's open, the right is a clenched fist

credits

from Full Moon Fever, released September 1, 2013
Words & music Laurent Leemans

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The Imaginary Suitcase Nivelles, Belgium

Folk/singer-songwriter duo led by a grumpy Belgian guy voicing his considerations about life, death, and the confusing bits inbetween.

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