Текст песни: Villagers. Becoming a Jackal. The Meaning of the Ritual.
My love is selfish
And I bet that yours is too
What is this peculiar thing called truth
My love is selfish
And it cares not who it hurts
It will cut you out to satisfy its thirst
For the meaning of a ritual so habitual
and cursed
My love is selfish
How it separates the earth
It takes every shiny stone but leaves the dirt
For the cowards in the corner who just don't know what they are worth
They have been twisted by a hollow kind of pain
I can see it in their eyes but I ignore it everyday
Because my love is selfish
And it remembers everything
Like the first time it was moved enough to sing
How it dangled on that stage just like a puppet on a string
And I bet that yours is too
What is this peculiar thing called truth
My love is selfish
And it cares not who it hurts
It will cut you out to satisfy its thirst
For the meaning of a ritual so habitual
and cursed
My love is selfish
How it separates the earth
It takes every shiny stone but leaves the dirt
For the cowards in the corner who just don't know what they are worth
They have been twisted by a hollow kind of pain
I can see it in their eyes but I ignore it everyday
Because my love is selfish
And it remembers everything
Like the first time it was moved enough to sing
How it dangled on that stage just like a puppet on a string
Villagers
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