| I don’t know, could go to 7th street
|
| In the spring we moved out west
|
| I missed the cocktails at the Concorde
|
| But every wave must have a crest
|
| There is an image that I-I cannot shake
|
| The wind blowing through your hair
|
| A part of you still moving, but all of you are not there
|
| I wonder how they think of you now
|
| Which picture they’ve had framed
|
| And if its easier at dinner to not bring up your name
|
| Orca, Orca, Orca
|
| There’s nothing quite as black and white as you
|
| Of course there are two oceans
|
| The shadow and the truth
|
| The one outside your window, and the one inside of you
|
| So change your hand
|
| But to see the truth
|
| I think I knew that you were dying
|
| I just didn’t want the proof
|
| Orca, Orca, Orca
|
| There’s nothing quite as black and white as you
|
| You were dressed in your shirt
|
| With your back to the wall
|
| Like you made up your mind
|
| Like you knew
|
| We all make our own way
|
| Into blue
|
| We all make our own way
|
| Into blue
|
| Theres nothing quite, as black and white, as you
|
| I wonder if you feel it too
|
| Theres nothing quite, as black and white, as you
|
| We all make our own way into blue
|
| Orca, orca, orca, orca
|
| You were dressed in your shirt
|
| With your back to the wall
|
| Like you made up your mind
|
| Like you knew
|
| We all make our own way
|
| Into blue
|
| We all make our own way
|
| Into blue
|
| We all make our own way
|
| Into blue
|
| We all make our own way
|
| Into blue |