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the Universe, she's wounded |
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she's got bruises on her feet |
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I sat down like I always did, |
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and tried to calm her down |
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I sent her my warmth and my silence |
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and all she sends me back is rain . . . rain |
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the Universe, she's wounded |
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but she's still got infinity ahead of her |
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she's still got you and me |
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and everybody says that she's beautiful |
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the Universe, she's dancing now |
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they got her lit up, lit up on the moon |
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they got stars doing cartwheels, all the nebulas on the tune |
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and the Universe, she's whispering so softly I can hear all |
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the croaking insects, all the taxicabs, all the bum's spent change |
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all the boys playing ball in the alleyways |
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they're just folds in her dress |
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the Universe, she's wounded |
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but she's still got infinity ahead of her |
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she's still got you and me |
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and everybody says that she's beautiful |
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and everybody says . . . |
