| The bright side is blinding our eyes
|
| And the sound keeps ringin', ringin'
|
| The bright side is just a white lie
|
| That the crowd keeps singin', singin'
|
| You are a busy bee
|
| You are a busy bee
|
| Sunshine, sitting on a pavement crack
|
| Everyone was staring back
|
| But you didn’t mind
|
| Sunshine, futile were our defenses
|
| Backwards ran your sentences
|
| Until reeled the mind
|
| Next what’s fear
|
| And silence in
|
| Wait just all we’ll then
|
| Upside-down everything
|
| Turning done you’re when
|
| The bright side is blinding our eyes
|
| And the sound keeps ringin', ringin'
|
| The bright side is just a white lie
|
| That the crowd keeps singin', singin'
|
| You are a busy bee
|
| You are a busy bee
|
| Back then, fighting with the permanent
|
| Pushing through the sediment
|
| Till we lost the trail
|
| Back then, those days felt like house arrest
|
| Half-awake and self-possessed
|
| We thought we’d prevail
|
| Among the rain
|
| And lights I saw
|
| The figure «5» in gold
|
| On a red firetruck
|
| That’s what I was told
|
| The bright side is blinding our eyes
|
| And the sound keeps ringin', ringin'
|
| The bright side is just a white lie
|
| That the crowd keeps singin', singin'
|
| The bright side is blinding our eyes
|
| And the sound keeps ringin', ringin' |