Rubble of the Past

[Verse 1: Urthboy] The wounds we licked And losses inflicted Drifted off in the distance And battle scars lifted If history is told by the victor Rip the old script up, painted over picture The official version of the vista, rose coloured glasses But can you hear the whispers? They're singing And of all of those winters Those incremental inches The memory of which is Like sand through the fingers If history is told by the richest Maybe you could pay to fix the painted over picture (picture, picture) Official version of the vistas but can you hear the whispers? They're singing [Hook: Montaigne] We're still trying to swallow down the past Yeah-yeah-yeah Before the past takes us down with her at last Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah [Verse 2: Montaigne] I can remember on that day We were the reigning champions You swallowed down that trophy All you remember is what they said You're digging in to debris For shards of glass that reflect the self You thought was good and now all those parts Of you are dying somewhere else Cough it up it's gonna hurt But if you cough it up you'll remember All the roses that you grew And all of the beauty that came through Dusty skin from the rubble of the past Wipe off the shit and find at last We are right here, we are right now And we're gonna get through all of this somehow Somehow [Pre-Hook: Montaigne] Going through the rubble Going through the rubble (somehow) Going through the rubble Going through the rubble [Hook: Montaigne] We're still trying to swallow down the past Yeah-yeah-yeah Before the past takes us down with her at last Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah We're still trying to swallow down the past Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah Before the past takes us down with her at last Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah [Verse 3: Urthboy] So we tried to write it down and document it in the hope That maybe later you can understand the fuck where we're coming from And the photograph is sepia and thinnin', you could swear to God It's not a version of ourselves we're running from What's necessary to forget for history repeating The finer details like a hairline that had receded So we're going through the rubble looking for a treaty To find a pulse when you thought the heart had stopped beating And if a spoonful of fiction helps the history go down Can you trust the version of events that we know now? Who we think we are become a battleground The past is a thing that we fling around A thing that we fling around, a thing that we fling around A ship we can run aground, wreck for the treasure found Settle on a new account [Outro: Montaigne] Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble Going through the rubble