This is morning
|
That's when I spend the most time
|
Thinking 'bout what I've given up
|
This is a warning
|
When you start the day just to close the curtains
|
You're thinking 'bout what I've given up
|
|
Where are you now?
|
As I'm swimming through the stereo
|
I'm writing you a symphony of sound
|
Where are you now?
|
As I rearrange the songs again
|
This mix could burn a hole in anyone
|
But it was you I was thinking of
|
|
I read your letter
|
The one you left when you broke into my house
|
Retracing every step you made
|
And you said you meant it
|
And there's a piece of me in every single
|
Second of every single day
|
But if it's true then tell me how it got this way
|
|
Where are you now?
|
As I'm swimming through the stereo
|
I'm writing you a symphony of sound
|
Where are you now?
|
As I rearrange the songs again
|
This mix could burn a hole in anyone
|
But it was you I was thinking of
|
|
And I can't get to you
|
I can't get to you
|
I can't get to you (you, you)
|
|
Where are you now?
|
As I'm swimming through the stereo
|
I conduct a symphony of sound
|
Where are you now?
|
As I'm cutting through you track by track
|
I swear to God this mix could sink the sun
|
But it was you I was thinking of
|
|
And where are you now?
|
And where are you now?
|
|
And this is my mixed tape for her
|
It's like I wrote every note
|
With my own fingers
|
|
-----------------
|
The Mixed Tape
|
| Jack's Mannequin |
