Créditos
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Brown Bags
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brown Bags
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Brown Bags
Producer
Letra
You saw it standing there
Capped in white powder
Its lonely peak was beckoning
Hour after hour
You were feeling pretty down
So at night you decided to climb
You woke up in the morning
Right back where you started
With needles in your skull
Wondering why you had departed
Yeah, not the greatest plan
But it seemed a good idea at the time
Still you couldn't stop thinking
'Bout those walls of solid granite
Convinced some sorry rubes
It went down just like you planned it
You sounded like a prophet
So they all came along for the ride
Now they get up with the dawn
Their bewildered heads aching
They admire your stoicism
But can't tell that you're faking
It's a smokescreen that's obscuring
Every doubt that you carry inside
Don't
Don't pretend
That you
You comprehend
White Mountain
Don't
Don't lie again
I know
Know where you've been
White Mountain
Your servants stifle a groan
The cold wind cuts to the bone
But they won't hear you complain
It keeps you numb to the pain
That you feel but refuse to recognize
You tell me you're not sad
But I can see it in your eyes
The illusion you've constructed for yourself
Has begun wearing thin
So plod onward and hope that no one pays attention
Let them believe this strategy was your invention
You've come too far to quit
And goddamned be the cost of your sins
Written by: Brown Bags