Matt Riddle | Theme | Matt Riddle

Don't move, stay right where you are Talking can only give you away And there's so nothing to say The voices say hello Imprisoned, they're invisible But we look a lot alike This is boring, all we talk about is you Come on give me a reason A boy and his machine gun When you're finished struggling, are you free tonight? Did they stick you in here 'Cause you weren't working right? Don't move stay just like you are You look sane motionless like that so very flat It's amazing what velocity can do When human beings are in season A boy and his machine gun, if you're quiet we might see some When you're finished struggling, are you free tonight? Did they stick you in here 'Cause you weren't working right? There's a TV in every room And it's free even pay-per-view Which you'll need if no one's going to visit you Animal, fucking animal I know who you're waiting for No one's coming though So fuck you and your principals And fuck whatever made me Perhaps you think I'm evil Perhaps you think I'm crazy

Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of Aran Goes around and around I've got two strong arms Blessings of Babylon Time to carry on and try For sins and false alarms So to America the brave Wise men say Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of Aran Goes around and around And his mind is a beacon In the veil of the night For a strange kind of fashion There's a wrong and a right But he'll never, never fight over you Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of Aran Goes around and around And his mind is a beacon In the veil of the night For a strange kind of fashion There's a wrong and a right But he'll never, never fight over I got plans for us Nights in the scullery And days instead of me I only know what to discuss Oh, for anything but light Wise men fighting over you It's not me you see Pieces of Valentine And just a song of mine To keep from burning history Seasons of gasoline and gold Wise men fold Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of Aran Goes around and around And his mind is a beacon In the veil of the night For a strange kind of fashion There's a wrong and a right But he'll never, never fight over you I got time to kill Sly looks in corridors Without a plan of yours A blackbird sings on bluebird hill Thanks to the calling of the wild Wise men's child He'll never, never fight over you No, he'll never, never fight over you