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I feel the magic that our time has traced |
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Make a point of it in every place |
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But every place deserves a curse or two |
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For making me so far away from you |
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I saw some pictures of the world at war |
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Couldn't suss what all the fuss was for |
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I wear a picture of you wearing black |
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And kissing me behind the butlers back |
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Sometimes I get down |
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But it's not you that gets me down |
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It's just that sense of the impossible |
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Gratuitously handed down |
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But oh no, not you |
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Don't wipe your eyes over lies |
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Just let them shine their blue |
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On every whisper that welcomes the inconceivable |
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And the birth of the true |
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I'd sack the world and make a second start |
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Sack my head until I found my heart |
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Sack the world ane make a red parade |
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To burn the banks down while the bugles played |
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Sometimes I get down |
|
But it's not you that gets me down |
|
It's just that sense of the impossible |
|
Gratuitously handed down |
|
But oh no, not you |
|
Don't wipe your eyes over lies |
|
Just let them shine their blue |
|
On every whisper that welcomes the inconceivable |
|
And the birth of the true |
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On every whisper that welcomes the unbelievable |
|
And the birth of the true |
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On every whisper that welcomes the inconceivable |
|
And the birth of the true |
