| Thirteen dead reindeer
|
| Lying dead on the snow
|
| As the silver coach passes
|
| There’s rain down below
|
| Someone dies in the desert
|
| Someone cries on the street
|
| While my keyboard light flashes
|
| With a text and a tweet
|
| My night turns to day
|
| And my day turns to night
|
| It’s all superstition
|
| Ritual and spark
|
| The colour of my skin can’t hide
|
| All the scars
|
| My blood runs in rainbows
|
| Mixed with tears and sweat
|
| Caused by the promise that this world never met
|
| Is there a hope for the hopeless?
|
| Is there a prayer for the damned?
|
| A light in the darkness
|
| You can switch on and off
|
| Or just a belief that a day will soon come?
|
| Or at least a few seconds
|
| When the pressure will stop, stop, stop, stop
|
| It’s all superstition
|
| Ritual and spark
|
| The colour of my skin can’t hide
|
| All the scars
|
| My blood runs in rainbows
|
| Mixed with tears and sweat
|
| Caused by the promise that this world never met
|
| My shoes have carried me
|
| To a place unrecognised
|
| Not by the guard who created
|
| This unholy mess
|
| It’s all superstition
|
| Ritual and spark
|
| The colour of my skin can’t hide
|
| All the scars
|
| My blood runs in rainbows
|
| Mixed with tears and sweat
|
| Caused by the promise that this world never met
|
| I’ll be able to stand up
|
| On my own two feet
|
| In the clear waters breathing air that is clean
|
| Without all the filters that dumb down and blind
|
| My eyes through the reality that you accustom to see
|
| Thirteen dead reindeer
|
| Thirteen dead reindeer
|
| Thirteen dead reindeer |