歌曲 | Getting Sodas |
歌手 | The World is a Beautiful Place & I am No Longer Afraid to Die |
专辑 | Whenever, If Ever |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
We are the walls in formless shapes. | |
The overbearing weight. | |
This house weighs heavy on my mind. | |
Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. | |
Took down your pictures and your belongings. | |
In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you’ll wait. | |
Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. | |
Little birds flew by me. | |
The wind’s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. | |
Can’t go back. | |
Where’s your tact? | |
Where’s your grace? | |
Where are the things you replace? | |
Are our words more than sound? | |
We cut the air and we’ve found to lose your faith in the world is to lose faith in yourself. | |
We are ghosts in your homes. | |
We travel under the floor. | |
And when our voices fail us we will find new ways to sing. | |
When our bodies fail we’ll find joy in the peace that it brings. | |
The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way. | |
Whenever you find home we’ll make it more than just a shelter. | |
And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. | |
If you’re afraid to die, then so am I. |
We are the walls in formless shapes. | |
The overbearing weight. | |
This house weighs heavy on my mind. | |
Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. | |
Took down your pictures and your belongings. | |
In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you' ll wait. | |
Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. | |
Little birds flew by me. | |
The wind' s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. | |
Can' t go back. | |
Where' s your tact? | |
Where' s your grace? | |
Where are the things you replace? | |
Are our words more than sound? | |
We cut the air and we' ve found to lose your faith in the world is to lose faith in yourself. | |
We are ghosts in your homes. | |
We travel under the floor. | |
And when our voices fail us we will find new ways to sing. | |
When our bodies fail we' ll find joy in the peace that it brings. | |
The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way. | |
Whenever you find home we' ll make it more than just a shelter. | |
And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. | |
If you' re afraid to die, then so am I. |
We are the walls in formless shapes. | |
The overbearing weight. | |
This house weighs heavy on my mind. | |
Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. | |
Took down your pictures and your belongings. | |
In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you' ll wait. | |
Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. | |
Little birds flew by me. | |
The wind' s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. | |
Can' t go back. | |
Where' s your tact? | |
Where' s your grace? | |
Where are the things you replace? | |
Are our words more than sound? | |
We cut the air and we' ve found to lose your faith in the world is to lose faith in yourself. | |
We are ghosts in your homes. | |
We travel under the floor. | |
And when our voices fail us we will find new ways to sing. | |
When our bodies fail we' ll find joy in the peace that it brings. | |
The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way. | |
Whenever you find home we' ll make it more than just a shelter. | |
And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. | |
If you' re afraid to die, then so am I. |