After the red ants, the black-out
|
Come peace and quiet.
|
Those little foot-prints
|
Fleshed out calm in my mind.
|
I lay like a compass,
|
Digits accusing the sunrise
|
Rain-drops abseil the window
|
And flinch through the hurt cries.
|
|
I feel this great pressure coming down on me.
|
And the ticle of my bliss,
|
Pulling at your sympathy
|
|
I feel this great pressure coming down on me,
|
When my nerve is on the high wire.
|
My bliss, pulling at your sympathy
|
|
After the hunt and the sweat now
|
Come peace and quiet.
|
Your head on my heart
|
Anchored the storm in my eyes.
|
I lay like a carcass
|
Your lips never letting the blood dry
|
And so I pray for tomorrow
|
And wait listening out for a reply.
|
|
I feel this great pressure coming down on me.
|
And the ticle of my bliss,
|
Pulling at your sympathy
|
|
I feel this great pressure coming down on me,
|
When my nerve is on the high wire.
|
My bliss, pulling at your sympathy
|
|
I feel this great pressure coming down on me.
|
And the ticle of my bliss,
|
Pulling at your sympathy
|
|
I feel this great pressure coming down on me,
|
When my nerve is on the high wire.
|
My bliss, pulling at your sympathy
|
|
-----------------
|
Peace & Quiet
|
| White Lies |
