| Out in the fields the skies crack and peel
|
| While off in the distance the buildings collide
|
| And down in the grass is a sea of broken glass
|
| And remnants of lives that I used to label «mine.»
|
| And I’ve lost my tongue and I’ve lost all my friends
|
| And I can’t remember if I give a damn
|
| We peek from the edge of an old rusty bridge
|
| Down in the water is the house where we were raised
|
| And over where the trees and gardens used to be
|
| Are remnants of pictures we still carry in our minds
|
| And you’ve lost your mind and you’ve lost all your plans
|
| And I can’t quite tell if you even give a damn
|
| The neighborhood is gone. |
| The air reeks of smoke ash and cold
|
| Winter’s sleeping on our doorsteps
|
| As you hum your songs, the water turn to ice above our home
|
| So we go collect our paychecks and leave
|
| Up comes the sun to burn everyone
|
| And we pay the difference by peeling off our skin
|
| And as far as we can tell, it’s pretty cold in hell
|
| But you’ve got your sweaters
|
| So I’m sure you won’t mind
|
| But you’ve lost your heart. |
| And you’ve lost all your will
|
| You’re shot full of holes, and what you hold always spills
|
| The city’s met its end. |
| The monuments have all crashed and burned
|
| I doubt that we’ll miss them
|
| We walk through the woods, and neither of us looks back, not once
|
| There’s nothing behind us anymore
|
| It was all in our heads. |
| It was all in our heads
|
| The sky was never falling; |
| it was all in our heads
|
| So sleep well tonight. |
| And dream some good things
|
| The sky was never falling. |
| It was all a bad dream |