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I'm a part and a part of being a part of something |
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Is there's something to lean upon |
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I'm apart and a part of being apart from something is there's nothing to lean upon |
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Your mind says |
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It's not particularly clear today |
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It's winter on our harbour wire |
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And we don't mind |
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A the pace we play with the minimum chips of games we pay |
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They're not to know our names, and we don't mind |
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We're supposed to be the kind of clan |
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Brings home the day with bread and beaten hands |
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But Hands that kneed do need the change |
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From being alone to being so |
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Ever so empathised |
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But have you ever been loved inside |
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Put together as me and they |
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Count me as one too |
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I'm a part and a part of being a part of something |
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Is there's something to lean upon |
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I'm apart and a part of being apart from something is there's nothing to lean upon |
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And aren't you turning heads and screwing feet to legs and making all the sense of faces I know |
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And as it turns out there are thousands of shards of you in me and yard of me in you and now we're whole |
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Because of what you are, because of what you are, because of all the pieces put together made you into something |
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Give me the fire you make, we'll make a cut a out of the piece of cake |
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Underwater for our wedding day, there's 24 people under the waves |
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And can you dream of walking late, past the post of the pace parade |
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It's winter on our harbour bridge |
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And we don't mind |
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I'm a part and a part of being a part of something |
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Is there's something to lean upon |
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I'm apart and a part of being apart from something is there's nothing to lean upon |
