| It’s like we just can’t help ourselves
|
| Cause we don’t know how to back down
|
| We were called out to the streets
|
| We were called out to the towns
|
| How the heavens they opened up
|
| Like arms of dazzling gold
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| With our rain-washed histories
|
| Well, we do not need to be told
|
| Show me now, show me the arms aloft
|
| Every eye, trained on a different star
|
| This magic, this drunken semaphore, and I
|
| We are listening and we’re not blind
|
| This is your life, this your time
|
| We are listening and were not blind
|
| This is your life, this is your time
|
| I was called out in the dark
|
| By a choir of beautiful cheats
|
| And as the kids took back the parks
|
| You and I were left with the streets
|
| Show me now, show me the arms aloft
|
| Every eye, trained on a different star
|
| This magic, this drunken semaphore, and I
|
| We are listening and we’re not blind
|
| This is your life, this your time
|
| We are listening and were not blind
|
| This is your life, this is your time
|
| We are listening and we’re not blind
|
| This is your life, this is your time
|
| We are listening and we’re not blind |
| This is your life, this is your time |