Telling Stories
I'm telling myself stories about the future
What will disappear and what will last
Everything around me's getting newer
And I'm telling myself stories about the past
I recall a time when me and you were
Making bets on eternity
I'm telling myself stories that are bluer
I'm telling myself stories about me
The high-stakes drama was a let down
We don't know what was real and what was fake
The plot turned on some dime novel romance
Now we're telling ourself stories for our sake
And I'm waiting for another sun to set down
And some new moon to do its job for free
I'm telling myself stories about the city
And I'm telling myself stories about me
The gun is hid inside the maid's gray bonnet
The family's country mansion is for sale
The bankers and the nouveaux riches all want it
The drunken old aristocrat's in jail
And the audience all think they know who did it
And everyone feels sorry just in time
Word is there will be a general pardon
For everyone who toes the party line
And I'm telling myself stories that will end soon
And in some of them I'm only in act III
I don't know who's the hero or the villain
I'm telling myself stories about me
But in all of them I give her my last dollar
And then recite a sad soliloquy
In all of them I choose death before dishonor
In all of my stories about me
What will disappear and what will last
Everything around me's getting newer
And I'm telling myself stories about the past
I recall a time when me and you were
Making bets on eternity
I'm telling myself stories that are bluer
I'm telling myself stories about me
The high-stakes drama was a let down
We don't know what was real and what was fake
The plot turned on some dime novel romance
Now we're telling ourself stories for our sake
And I'm waiting for another sun to set down
And some new moon to do its job for free
I'm telling myself stories about the city
And I'm telling myself stories about me
The gun is hid inside the maid's gray bonnet
The family's country mansion is for sale
The bankers and the nouveaux riches all want it
The drunken old aristocrat's in jail
And the audience all think they know who did it
And everyone feels sorry just in time
Word is there will be a general pardon
For everyone who toes the party line
And I'm telling myself stories that will end soon
And in some of them I'm only in act III
I don't know who's the hero or the villain
I'm telling myself stories about me
But in all of them I give her my last dollar
And then recite a sad soliloquy
In all of them I choose death before dishonor
In all of my stories about me
Credits
Writer(s): Turner Van Pelt Kniffin, Nicolas Michaux
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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