If you're all that you're cracked up to be
|
Sylvia, come and sit with me and
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Hold my hand, for comfort's sake
|
If who you are eventually is all that forms your destiny
|
If character equates to fate
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Then I'm not great
|
But it's not in me to complain
|
Ooh
|
|
Oh girl in white, come close to me
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Hold my hand, pass notes to me
|
Unquestioning, in dormitories
|
We string our beads
|
And fill our plates
|
The days repeat and play again
|
|
And time goes by so idly
|
Writing in your diary
|
And every line the same:
|
That "If this is life
|
Then why does it feel like I'm dreaming?"
|
Oh "If this is life
|
Then why does it feel like I'm far away?"
|
And ooh
|
And "If this is life
|
Then why does it feel like I'm dreaming?"
|
Oh "If this is life
|
Then why does it feel like I'm far away?"
|
And "If this is life
|
Then Sylvia!"
|
|
Arriving at the window like the milk, all dressed in white
|
Tell me what you are
|
And tell me if my character is fate
|
Do I confine myself til I find a way to dream us all awake?
|
It's weird
|
Sometimes, when I swear I don't remember how you came
|
|
Oh and girl in white
|
Just tell me if you think I'm dreaming
|
Oh if this is life
|
Then why does it feel like I'm far away?
|
Oh and this is life
|
But still it does feel like I'm dreaming
|
And if this is life
|
Then Sylvia!
|
|
-----------------
|
Sylvia
|
| Emmy the Great & Tim Wheeler |
