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No genre, no problem: Cursive's decades-long musical defiance
For nearly 30 years, Tim Kasher and co. have challenged genre conventions, keeping Cursive's sound fiercely unpredictable.
Nov 11, 2024 • 10:07 AM
Lyrics
Strung out on leaving One leg stretched for the curb The other one grounds itself against rebirth So the swallows will stay in the barn The finches left a long time ago The fall must be oh so close I cannot exist in this circumference I keep a crippled leg on home base Where I hang my crutches I'm so weak and needy My knees are so weak Crutches keep me from kneeling I need something I can fall back on Something to relate to Something to rotate to, now Nothing's so far away And nothing so good can ever stay Now, could it? And I know that the stars all have names Some of them just aren't as good as others Some of them are just letters and numbers Sometimes I forget That the smallest things can be oh so big Where'd you hang my crutches? I'm so weak I'm bleeding I bleed every week Crutches keep me from kneeling And there's nothing here to fall back on Nothing to relate to Nothing to replace you Now, nothing seems so far down Down, I'll shove my foot Deeper into the ground
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