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Текст песни I Shot A Warhol

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Murs - Текст песни I Shot A Warhol

I shot a Warhol

Dead with my pistol

When the wind hit the hole

In the canvas it whistled

Beautiful with no frame

A face with no name

Glass full of cold fame

Chased it with slow pain

---

Nostrils of cocaine

Cocktail and kill time

Scenes from a bad film

Lived out in real time

Who plays the hero

Which one's the victim

Violent and fearful

They find their positions

Pride and ambition, the enemies inside you

Tendencies to listen, even when you're lied to

Pry through the details

Unmask the myth

Try to impress the cast

With acid trips

Mash your lips against a cold hard bottle of

Washed up stars and old role models

She loves the sorrow

So much that she swallows

But talk to tomorrow

Which walk will she follow

Everybody needs to be appreciated

Execute him for the masterpiece that he created

Death of a sales martyr

Fire starter

If the hate doesn't make you wanna die

Try harder

---

I shot a Warhol

Dead with my pistol

When the wind hit the hole

In the canvas it whistled

Beautiful with no frame

A face with no name

Glass full of cold fame

Chased it with slow pain

No game to rise to

The coke side blinds you

Hope with no aim

And its the fuel that you "Eye" to

Steady with that rifle

Pointed at your idle

Open up the spot

With each fallen rival

This is the cycle

Replace the A-list

The next batch of faces

Can come hate the famous

Everybody thinks that what they make is golden

When Lennon got shot

There were thoughts of holding

What'cha gonna do to impress the bitch

Which slow blow gets picked
Murs - I Shot A Warhol - http://ru.motolyrics.com/murs/i-shot-a-warhol-lyrics.html
When you get that itch

If they notice

That you're climbing to the focus

Surround yourself with soldiers

and like minded moments

Dark sticks, in whoever heart's the biggest

Eye of the beholder

Is dark, cold and vicious

She loves you

Because she loves image

Let's tear it all apart

From the start to the finish

---

I shot a Warhol

Dead with my pistol

When the wind hit the hole

In the canvas it whistled

Beautiful with no frame

A face with no name

Glass full of cold fame

Chased it with slow pain

It's nothing but a slow pulse

If you just stop feeling it

Your friends and your folks

Can't adjust to what you're dealing with

Accustomed to trust

Now the lust got you killing it

Eyes wide shut

Now your fucked

No healing it

Travel down the barrel towards the light

Once in open space

it's easy to lose sight

Don't look down

You're bound to fall flat

If you do hit the ground

You're bound to bounce back

The sound track

She hated every single song

But everybody else

Seemed to wanna sing along

Bring along

The belief that every thing is wrong

We all break down in front of God

Before the break of dawn

Silence

Open up the eyelids

To sex, drugs, and violence

Movies, songs, books

Everything is based on it

So we stay on it

Got a bullet with your face on it

---

I shot a Warhol

Dead with my pistol

When the wind hit the hole

In the canvas it whistled

Beautiful with no frame

A face with no name

Glass full of cold fame

Chased it with slow pain

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