| After the red ants, the black-out, come peace and quiet
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| Those little footprints fleshed out calm in my mind
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| I lay like a compass, digits accusing the sunrise
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| Raindrops abseil the window and flinch through the hurt cries
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| I feel this great pressure coming down on me
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| And the tide of my bliss pulling at your sympathy
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| I feel this great pressure coming down on me (when my nerve’s on the high wire)
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| My bliss pulling at your sympathy
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| After the hunt and the sweat, now come peace and quiet
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| Your head on my heart anchored the storm in my eyes
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| I lay like a carcass, your lips never letting the blood dry
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| And so I pray for tomorrow and wait, listening out for a reply
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| I feel this great pressure coming down on me
|
| And the tide of my bliss pulling at your sympathy
|
| I feel this great pressure coming down on me (when my nerve’s on the high wire)
|
| My bliss pulling at your sympathy
|
| I feel this great pressure coming down on me
|
| And the tide of my bliss pulling at your sympathy
|
| I feel this great pressure coming down on me (when my nerve’s on the high wire)
|
| My bliss pulling at your sympathy |