| This is the writing on the wall
|
| Inside the cage that gets you out
|
| This is the scratching and the sweat
|
| Between the sheets that makes you shout
|
| Here they come again
|
| Those million voices looking to get out
|
| They’re all in all so very small
|
| Those giant teeth that eye you
|
| Fought to fight it
|
| You fought to fight it
|
| Miles away from here
|
| Where the air in my head gets clear
|
| You’re the name on the tip of my tongue
|
| Fought to fight it, just run
|
| This is the office down the hall
|
| That writes the checks that gets the house
|
| A better half that’s made of glass
|
| That’s skipping stones and cleans you out
|
| Here they come again
|
| Those million voices looking to get out
|
| They’re all in all so very small
|
| You fought to fight them do you
|
| (Ah, it’s like a breath of fresh air!)
|
| Miles away from here
|
| Where the air in my head gets clear
|
| You’re the name on the tip of my tongue
|
| Fought to fight it
|
| Miles away from here |