manic street preachers
die in the summertime
Scratch my leg with a rusty nail, sadly it heals Colour my hair but the dye grows out I can't seem to stay a fixed ideal  Childhood pictures redeem, clean and so serene See myself without ruining lines Whole days throwing sticks into streams  I have crawled so far sideways I recognise dim traces of creation I want to die, die in the summertime, I want to die  The hole in my life even stains the soil My heart shrinks to barely a pulse A tiny animal curled into a quarter circle If you really care wash the feet of a beggar  I have crawled so far sideways I recognise dim traces of creation I want to die, die in the summertime, I want to die  I have crawled so far sideways I recognise dim traces of creation I want to die, die in the summertime, I want to die