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• False Advertising • | by Bright Eyes
On a string...

On a string...

On a string, I was held.
The way I move, can you tell?
My actions are orchestrated from above.
So I swing and I sway.
Wave my hand, kick my leg,
And it is always right with the music.

"Until all that swaying starts to make you sick..."

For a song I was bought,
Now I lie when I talk
With a careful eye on the cue card.
Onto a stage I was pushed,
With my sorrow well rehearsed.
So give me all your pity and your money, now (all of it)

"We used to think that sound was something pure..."

If I could act like
This was my real life,
And not some cage where I've been placed,
Well then, I could tell you
The truth like I used to
And not be afraid of sounding fake.

Now all anyone's listening for are the mistakes!

(Ah, I'm sorry!)

(Oh, it's okay, it's okay)

1, 2, 3,
1, 2, 3!

In a house by myself,
I hear the ice start to melt,
And I'll watch rooftops weep for the sunlight.
And I know what must change,
Fuck my face. Fuck my name,
They are brief and false advertisements...

...For a soul I don't have.
Something true I have lacked
And spent my whole life trying to make up for.
But I found in a song
And in the people I love,
They will lift me up out of darkness.

And now my door, it stands open,
I'm inviting everyone in.
We're gonna laugh,
We're gonna drink until the morning comes.
That's what we're gonna to do...
Come on!! Come on!!
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