| You pushed my head under the water
|
| I lost my breath, but the skyline called my name
|
| The wilds the wilds the wilds they pull you in
|
| These miles we’ve walked and miles we talked have been
|
| The first time I am not alone in my head
|
| By itself, oneself, can’t find where it began
|
| The dust you’ll find beneath my feet
|
| Reminds me of the simpler things
|
| When it was only you and me
|
| But now I see, now I see
|
| So we all fall asleep
|
| So we laugh and play
|
| So we drink and eat
|
| So we count our time
|
| So we know our keep
|
| But it floats away
|
| Nothing seems to stay these days
|
| Fragile and weak
|
| It’s been years and now
|
| I get a moment to speak
|
| And all I think about
|
| Is what to say
|
| When you’re, face to face with nothing
|
| And nothing will escape your lips
|
| The clouds, the clouds, the clouds
|
| They take their shape
|
| We dream that in their billows
|
| Are answers to this place
|
| You ask me to surrender
|
| You’re sure it’s what I’ll take
|
| We broke our bread together
|
| And cursed it at the gates
|
| I’m a son of a father
|
| My mother’s oldest one
|
| You make your trade with your brothers
|
| Sister, you’re not the only one
|
| Head to toe I’m drowning
|
| I told you not to speak
|
| Frail and fragile weak dim
|
| The light down on the street
|
| But the light still lingers
|
| The light still lingers (x4)
|
| In my eyes (x4)
|
| I’m a son of a father (I'm a son of a father)
|
| My mother’s oldest one (My mother’s oldest one)
|
| You make your trade with your brothers
|
| (You make your trade with your brothers)
|
| Sister, you’re not the only one |