| Looking out on a buzzing city
|
| Molecules go flying by
|
| Standing here is a very lost disciple
|
| How could it be that angels lie? |
| They lie.
|
| Speaking out in a frozen language
|
| You try to keep that heat inside
|
| Every face is a masterpiece of lonely
|
| And every breath is rarefied.
|
| Who wants to see an abandoned soul?
|
| Who wants to try and open it?
|
| Who wants to know what desperate is?
|
| Who wants to buy what’s broken?
|
| Dodging kindness like golden arrows
|
| Shading treasure from uncivil eyes
|
| Tunnels steaming with the breath of a dragon
|
| Cathedrals warming to the sunrise.
|
| Who wants to see an abandoned soul?
|
| Who wants to try and open it?
|
| Who wants to know what desperate is?
|
| Who wants to buy what’s broken?
|
| Who wants to see an abandoned soul?
|
| Who wants to try and open it?
|
| Who wants to know what desperate is?
|
| Who wants to buy what’s broken?
|
| Looking out on a buzzing city
|
| Molecules go flying by
|
| Standing here is a very lost disciple
|
| How could it be that angels lie? |