| Burned off in the heat of an afternoon
|
| After six weeks straight soaked to the bone
|
| I was trembling, wondering could that knob still turn
|
| By this ash hand? |
| Or would the motion mask the room
|
| In a grey winter? |
| Does the silence and the sill know
|
| When will the wind blow? |
| When will the wind blow?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| When will it burn off?
|
| Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh
|
| Shaken, but couldn’t shake it off of me
|
| Saw it, cloud of levity
|
| You were the nightingale, I was the wretched rail
|
| That takes the train away
|
| To chase elusive dollar on some breathless day
|
| And then it burns off
|
| And then it burns off
|
| And then it burns off
|
| And then it burns off
|
| And then it burns off
|
| And then it burns off
|
| Why does it burn off?
|
| Why does it burn off?
|
| Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh
|
| I must take a drink
|
| Before I meet the man I’m said to become
|
| Inertia crocodile
|
| Opens the door and you’re eclipsed by the sun
|
| Uh
|
| Burned off, yeah, in the heat of an afternoon
|
| After six weeks straight soaked to the bone, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh |