| When your eyes are tight now
|
| You see the crash site howl
|
| A crucified morning
|
| And people thunder-storming
|
| Welcome to the heat race
|
| Dancers on a red plate
|
| Strike while the iron is hot
|
| But you know that it’s dark outside
|
| (Soon you’ll see it slip away)
|
| And you have little time to hide
|
| (Washed away from the rain)
|
| Love and disarm now
|
| It will do you no harm now
|
| People we know slip away
|
| Feel like a gun-head
|
| From things that are not said
|
| You had a Sunday notion
|
| You’d go through the motions
|
| Feeling cross and wavy
|
| You know you couldn’t save me
|
| Try to retrieve me somehow
|
| You want to lie in the morning sun
|
| (Why are they all afraid)
|
| And blow around like the chosen one
|
| (It's a shame, it’s all a game
|
| You’re too late)
|
| Swinging at the sea stars
|
| Living on a memoir
|
| People we know slip away
|
| (Soon you’ll see it slip away)
|
| (Washed away from the rain)
|
| When your eyes are tight now
|
| You see the crash site howl
|
| A crucified morning
|
| It comes with no warning
|
| Where it’s gonna come from
|
| Is it gonna feel numb
|
| People we know slip away
|
| Ah, people we know slip away |