You built it up brick by brick
|
Put your heart into this baseless myth
|
Nurtured it like a child
|
And dressed its wounds when it ran wild
|
|
You stopped to fix your face
|
Someone else stepped in and took your place
|
Now everything you once knew
|
Is running circles around you
|
|
A car door slamming in your road
|
It jolts you like a kick inside
|
A year old message on your phone
|
That catches you when you can't hide
|
|
I see you in the service station sign
|
I see you in the supermarket line
|
I see you silhouetted on a wall
|
But I don't see myself there at all
|
|
This vessel of Balsa wood
|
Is the fag end tail of amoeba-hood
|
The busying cast confer
|
And get their taste of the drama
|
|
You stare through mindless daytime shows
|
And curse yourself for growing old
|
The sterile scent of shaving foam
|
Reminds you of another world
|
|
I see you in the roofless sombre sky
|
I see you when the lovers stop outside
|
I see you silhouetted on a wall
|
But I don't see myself there at all
|
|
I see you in the sweetness of our child
|
I see you in the supermarket aisle
|
I see you when I'm kneeling on the floor
|
But I can't see myself anymore
|
|
Hard times got the upper hand
|
Stole our feeble plans
|
The faces, shot me, spin me round
|
But I won't lie down
|
|
Hard times shake me to the bone
|
Face bruised, bloody nose
|
Shell shocked, crawling on the ground
|
Still I won't lie down
|
|
No I won't lie down
|
No I won't lie down
|
I won't lie down
|
|
-----------------
|
Myth
|
| Keane |
