| He said meet me at the garden
|
| It was half past eight
|
| I could feel him all sighing
|
| But couldn’t make him awake
|
| And then we talked about things
|
| Like fish in the sea
|
| He told me the difference
|
| Of how to want and to be
|
| He is wearing braveness
|
| On his skin, black and red
|
| For longer it seemed
|
| He didn’t look at it
|
| When you grow a fire
|
| To a room you’ve locked from inside
|
| Burning all the furnitures down
|
| Let it go, let it go
|
| It might be easier when you let it show, let it show
|
| And then you cut it out, cut it out
|
| The phones are off
|
| Talk to me, talk to me
|
| At night when all is naked
|
| I can see, i can flee
|
| And when the sounds are off, from the off
|
| The music comes to me
|
| At night vampires calling
|
| We would meet again
|
| And he would take me to his playground
|
| We’d make it comfortable there
|
| On the fields and on the vast floor
|
| Green to white swallows the season
|
| We would sit and watch the door
|
| 'Til my hands shake
|
| Another day, another try
|
| I want you to come with me
|
| Insomnia takes us high
|
| until he
|
| Grew a fire
|
| To a room that I had locked
|
| He’s burning all the furnitures down
|
| Let it go, let it go
|
| It might be easier when you let it show, let it show
|
| And then you cut it out, cut it out
|
| The phones are off
|
| Talk to me, talk to me
|
| At night when all is naked
|
| I can see, i can flee
|
| And when the sounds are off, from the off
|
| The music comes to me
|
| Feed me well, feed me well
|
| Feed me with a desire, desire
|
| Instead of keeping low, stir it up
|
| The blaze isn’t enough
|
| Talk to me, talk to me
|
| At day when all is light the memory is leaving me
|
| And when the sounds are off, from the off
|
| The music comes to me
|
| BRIDGE
|
| Stranger to the night
|
| Burning the room from inside
|
| Nothing to abide
|
| Burning a room from inside |