Siberian Breaks
MGMT Lyrics

Sleep as the goer
Rest as time moves forward

The bridge that watches the light speed through
Observing the passage of time as it flies by

And cries while the spirit stumbles
Feeling emotional pain while going through tough times

The inside missile for the protection of you
The innermost layer acting as a shield to protect oneself

Maybe it's silent
Perhaps there is no sound

The voice can't bear anymore strain
The vocal cords cannot handle additional pressure

But speaks without even knowing
Talking unconsciously without realizing it

And streams outside in the direction of truth
Expressing oneself in the path towards the truth

There's no reason there's no secrets to decode
There is no logical explanation and nothing to unravel

If you can't save it, leave it dying on the road
If you can't salvage it, abandon it to fend for itself

Wide open arms can feel so cold
Even the most welcoming environment can be a harsh and cold experience

Balance the books, the ledges, the loons
Rectify the arrangement, the slopes, and the crazed

The disappointed look on the faces
The displeased expressions seen on the faces

That squint at the moon
That try to make out the face of the moon by squinting

Let's see it with shadows enhanced
View it with more profound darkness surrounding it

And then vote to decide who'll advance
Determine by verdict who gets to move forward

Silver jet plane, making a turn
A plane of silver doing a rotation

Exciting the brain that expects it to crash and then burn
Stimulating the mind that anticipates the plane to smash and combust

It's not the life lesson I'd've guessed
It is unexpected wisdom that is not what I would have predicted

If you're conscious you must be depressed
If you are aware of your surroundings, you could be sad

Or at least cynical
Or at the very least, distrusting

But someone might still eat the steaks
But there could still be a person who wants to eat the steaks

Even if they're tough
Even if they are challenging to chew

Spending the day
Passing the hours

Chewing the fat
Casually speaking or socializing

Floating away isn't rough but it's not enough
Drifting does not require exertion, but it is not sufficient

Oh Marianne, pass me the joint
Oh Marianne, give me the cannabis cigarette

The sandpaper's tan
The texture of sandpaper is beige

Go-getters are surfing the point
Highly motivated individuals are riding the crest of the wave

And London's a scratch on the lens
London is a blemish on the camera lens

It's over before it begins
It is finished, and it never gets started

Silk 'round her neck falls down to her shoulders
Silken fabric around her neck cascades down to her shoulder

The older I get, the more I suspect there's a trick
The older I become, the more I realize there must be a ploy involved

But really there's no trip at all
But truly there is no scheme, after all

That doesn't result in a fall
That does not culminate in a tumble

Or a faltering
Or a hesitation

But something could spit out the bait
But something might reject the temptation

Even if it's real
Even if it is genuine

Rolling away
Departing while in motion

Missing a spoke
Absence of a wheel's spoke

Close to the ground like a wheel but it's not a joke
Near to the ground as rued but it is not amusing

Holding the line
Maintaining one's position

Clutching the phone
Gripping firmly to the telephone

Nobly wasting the night, but it isn't right
Respectfully consuming the evening, but it is unfair

Smelling for blood
Sniffing in search of blood

Praying for rain
Begging for rainfall

Running away isn't rough, but it's not enough
Fleeing is not stringent, but it is incomplete

The low tide is telling me, when it's over,
The receding tide informs me, when the end comes

To breathe in everything exposed
To inhale everything that is bared

And comes back to cover me with a blanket
Then returns to cover me like a blanket

Being here's always changing tunes
Existing in the present is always shifting vibrations

The empty sky surrounds me but I can't see at all
The clear heavens encircle me, but I can see nothing

Wide open arms can feel so cold
Even the most welcoming environment can be a harsh and cold experience

And you can sit beside me and tell me what it's worth
And you can sit next to me and explain its value

But I hope I die before I get sold
However, I expect to die before I am marketed

If you find the soul that you lost
If you retrieve your misplaced soul

Frozen in a starry void
Trapped in a star-filled darkness

Take it within and hope the sight of blood
Introduce it internally and pray the sight of crimson

Can will signs of life to return
May induce indications of revitalization

Back to the way that it was
Returing to the way it was before

Long before it made a noise
Many moments before causing a disturbance

To keep on quietly reminding you
As a silent reminder

What's never created or destroyed
What has always existed and can never be obliterated

Wake as the swell peaks
Awaken as the surge reaches its peak

The close-outs drowning the birds with roars
The waves causing the birds to suffocate with their crashing noise

And howls scare the new unkindness
And cats' cries frightening the group of crows

That picks and laughs at the carrion scene
Who pecks and caw at the scene of the dead animal

Forces you see breath can always go into hiding
The powers you see can always retreat and be invisible

And wait 'til it passes over
And wait until it passes by

Or stay far gone for all eternity
Or remain absent for eternity