Letra da Música: A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger - Of Montreal

I spent the winter on the verge of a total breakdown
while living in norway
I felt the darkness of the black metal bands
but being such bum of a man I didn't burn down any old
churches
just slept way too much
just slept

my mind rejects your frequency, it started craziness
to me
is it a soul, a fever?
the tv man is too loud, I'm faintly sleeping on a
cloud
you turn the dial, I'll try and smile

we live in plastic weather, this family sticks
together
we will escape from the south to the west side

my mind rejects your frequency, it's just verbosity to
me
ah...

I spent the winter with my nose buried in a book
while trying to restructure my character
because it had become vile to its creator
and through many dreadful nights
I lay praying to a saint that nobody has heard of
and waiting for some high time to come again

(dirty old child, oh, stay away
don't play your games with me
I am older now, I see the way you operate
if you don't hurt me, then you die...)