| The sorrow is an old stain
|
| The lino is a shade of grey
|
| They use on every lampshade
|
| They paint it on every door and window frame
|
| And we are like an army
|
| And army of abandoned souls
|
| Remember when we were kids
|
| Invincible in everything we said and did?
|
| Winter light
|
| That is when the comes
|
| Licking every surface clean
|
| Digging up our long-lost dreams
|
| The sorrow is an old stain
|
| The lino is a shade of grey
|
| They use on every lampshade
|
| They paint it on every door and window frame
|
| And we are like an army
|
| And army of abandoned souls
|
| Remember when we were kids
|
| Invincible in everything we said and did?
|
| (Winter light)
|
| There’s nobody here but us
|
| There’s nobody here but us
|
| (That is when the comes)
|
| There’s nobody here but us
|
| There’s nobody here but us
|
| (Licking every surface clean)
|
| There’s nobody here but us
|
| There’s nobody here but us
|
| (Digging up our long-lost dreams)
|
| There’s nobody here but us |