There are places we must go to
|
To bring these hollow words on back from
|
You must cross the muddy river
|
Where love turns to, love turns to fear
|
|
They say you don't look
|
There's only one way
|
On back from, on back from here
|
They say you don't look
|
'Cause it'll disappear
|
|
And our eyes they keep on straining
|
As if to see what lies behind 'em
|
Through the shells of empty buildings
|
And great columns of glass
|
|
They say you don't look
|
They say you don't look
|
'Cause it'll drive you mad
|
And if it drives you mad
|
Drives you mad
|
It'll probably pass
|
|
And if it drives you mad
|
And if it drives you mad
|
It'll probably pass
|
|
And if it drives you mad
|
If it drives you mad
|
It'll probably pass
|
|
-----------------
|
Orpheo
|
| Andrew Bird |
