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I'm sitting in the concrete, I'm listening for a heartbeat |
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I'm sitting in the painting, I promised I'd be waiting |
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I'm sitting in the window, I'm listening to the wind blow |
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I'm sitting in an hour glass, I'm waiting for the march past |
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I'm sitting in the doorway, I'm wishing for a new day |
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I'm choking in the landscape, I'm cutting through the red tape |
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I'm sitting in the concrete, I'm listening for a heartbeat |
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I'm sitting in the concrete, I'm listening for a heartbeat |
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And the joke has crossed the line and the final word is mine |
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And the mist has touched the wood and the words are understood |
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And the sand has drifted high and the blind man gave a cry |
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And the swallows dance above the sun |
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And the swallows dance above the sun, yeah |
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I'm sitting on the ceiling, I had to know the feeling |
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I'm sitting in the shelter, I'm going down, helter-skelter |
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I'm sitting in the concrete, I'm listening for a heartbeat |
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I'm sitting in the concrete, I'm listening for a heartbeat |
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And the joke has crossed the line and the final word is mine |
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And the mist has touched the wood and the words are understood |
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And the sand has drifted high and the blind man gave a cry |
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And the swallows dance above the sun |
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And the swallows dance above the sun, yeah |
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Every time I turn around, there's another face watching me |
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Every time I turn around, there's another voice calling me |
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Every time I turn around, there's another fool reading me |
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Every time I turn around, there's another silence drowning me |
