Gord Downie
HellBreaksLoose
I saw you on the street in New York City
I thought you looked so familiar to me
I followed the fascination of my nature
I followed you into France versus Italy
On the big screen TV
Into the gobbling Gauloise I go, yea
Sixty shoulders deep I go, yea
‘No drinks! Just beer!’ the bartender screams, repeatedly
There is this guy, he’s just crawling with sports, yea
‘Fuckin guinea bastard!’ he keeps screaming
Until he’s told, in French, to ‘fucking cool it!’
Bigger screens, bigger feelings. Bigger screens, bigger feelings
This is not the part where all hell breaks loose, no
This is not thе part where all hell brеaks loose
This is not the part where all hell breaks loose and I lose you
They kicked the rabbit around the field, but
My eyes just keep searching the room for you
It all ends in holy exploding mesh and I lose you
And I lose you
Plunge outside into the night air
Just as a cop car speeds on by
The siren sounding, yea, positively jovial
I sit down on the cold curb and cry
A passerby says, ‘Don’t cry, big boy
We’ll get ’em next time’
This is the part where all hell breaks loose, yea
This is the part where all hell breaks loose
This is the part where all hell breaks loose and I lose you
I lose you, I lose you, I lose you, I lose you