I feel it on the tip of my tongue, these words fall out like tears from a gun
|
and down they roll to join up as one, look in and see your own reflection
|
I hear it in the dead of the night, the bell rings out a beacon of light
|
Illuminate those deep in their sleep, the fallen down, the mild and the meek
|
|
It's as it always has been, pretend to float on the breeze
|
Insist it's only a dream and never take control
|
It's clear for all to see, show me something that don't mean
|
show me something that's not true and it'll come for you
|
I see it at the end of the road where common sense refuse to be towed
|
The line is bent back in on itself and gravity is lending its help
|
It's seeping from the cracks in the wall the overwhelming weight of it all
|
Is laughing at the sight of the moon that floats above us whistling it's tune
|
|
It's as it always has been, pretend to float on the breeze
|
Insist it's only a dream and never take control
|
It's clear for all to see, show me something that don't mean
|
show me something that's not true and it'll come for you
|
|
I feel it on the tip of my tongue these words fall out like tears from a gun
|
and down they roll to join up as one, look in and see your own reflection
|
I hear it in the dead of the night the bell rings out a beacon of light
|
Illuminate those deep in their sleep the fallen down, the mild and the meek
|
|
It's as it always has been, pretend to float on the breeze
|
Insist it's only a dream and never take control
|
It's clear for all to see, show me something that don't mean
|
show me something that's not true and it'll come for you
|
|
-----------------
|
Tears From A Gun
|
| The Black Ghosts |
