| Is this the edge of the world?
|
| We chased the horizon down 'til it hung beneath our feet
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| Now I’m drifting blind
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| All I know is we can’t move closer
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| And I’ve never seen the lights of the north
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| The constellations are so unfamiliar
|
| We followed far, as far as this machinery takes us
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| To some imaginary place where the compass shifts
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| And our lips drift to our cheeks
|
| Is this the edge of the world?
|
| All I know is we can’t move closer
|
| And I’ve never seen the lights of the north
|
| The constellations are so unfamiliar
|
| Searching for some apparent place
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| Where floated needles decide the way
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| I’d dig in my heels but I might crack the ice
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| Give me some solid ground
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| The frost is sinking in
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| In my cheeks, in my chest, in my fingertips
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| Desperation, we name every cape beyond the last
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| Frozen senseless, every day is a winter solstice
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| The view’s a wonder, but I can’t take it in
|
| (Is this the edge of the world?)
|
| And I’ve never seen the lights of the north
|
| The constellations are so unfamiliar
|
| Sun, make canvas of coastlines, so I know where I stand
|
| Make canvas of coastlines, so I know where I stand
|
| Sun, make canvas of coastlines, so I know where I stand
|
| Make canvas of coastlines
|
| I’ve never seen the lights of the north
|
| The constellations are so unfamiliar
|
| So unfamiliar
|
| So unfamiliar
|
| So unfamiliar
|
| So unfamiliar |