Текст: Manic Street Preachers. The Holy Bible. Die in The Summertime.

Scratch my leg with a rusty nail
Sadly it heals
Color my hair but the dye grows out
I can't seem to stay a fixed ideal

Childhood pictures redeem
Clean and so serene
See myself without ruining lines
Whole days throwing sticks into streams

I have crawled so far sideways
I recognize dim traces of creation
I wanna die, die in the summertime
I wanna die

The hole in my life even stains the soil
My heart shrinks to barely a pulse
A tiny animal curled into a quarter circle
If you really care wash the feet of a beggar

I have crawled so far sideways
I recognize dim traces of creation
I wanna die, die in the summertime
I wanna die

I have crawled so far sideways
I recognize dim traces of creation
I wanna die, die in the summertime
I wanna die