| So young for death
|
| We walk in shoes too big
|
| But you play it like a poet
|
| Like you always did
|
| And I lay face upturned on the palm of God
|
| Pushed on by the fingertips of dreams
|
| They haunted me
|
| Consoling me
|
| And I would like to call, call it beauty
|
| Strained as love’s become, it still amazes me
|
| And I would like to call it beauty, …
|
| You slept a sigh like the angels speak
|
| And we danced into tomorrow on bleeding feet
|
| And I had thought that I would die here
|
| But you pushed me on
|
| You pushed me on
|
| You pushed me on
|
| (Oh) And I would like to call it beauty
|
| Strained as love’s become, it still amazes me
|
| And I would like to call it beauty, …
|
| You can keep it all locked up in your leaden chest
|
| Or you can lay mouth open on the water’s edge
|
| But all your angels and your God will stitch and wash you
|
| Oh I would like to call, call it beauty
|
| Strained as love’s become, it still amazes me
|
| And I would like to call it beauty, … |