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When gravity's a palm pushing down on your head Like the devil's got a paw dug in your shoulder And the other one is rubbing your back But the kitchen in this new place has a window Yeah, you can grow basil on the sill Maybe, you can call your neighbours by name now
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Berries on the dash is the sweetest kind of living Still this feels like eating the meat of the mountain It's all grit and gristle I can't chew and swallow I'm gnawing my way back home The clouds are look a lot like wool gone through the washer I check my phone for the time but I still wear my watch Yeah, i’m confused about how I’m supposed to connect to anything now
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The kind of high I like is when I barely make the train And the people with a seat smile big at me Because they know the feelin' And for a millisecond we share a look like a family does Like we have inside jokes Like we could call each other by little nicknames And I could tell the story of how My great grandmother's sister was deemed a saint How they exhumed her body after years of being buried And they found she hadn't even begun' to sully So they moved her again, straight into the Vatican
I think of all the billions of eyes All looking at something different at the same time And I feel nauseous Some days I can only see into my suitcase It's got everything I need Plus some superstitious things I may also need "Music soothes the savage beast" The pilot says to me, and he asks me to sing But now is not the time I just want to fall into a pile of warm laundry I just wanna keep very very quiet. Yeah
It’s June where you sleep, July where I land Thought I saw you on the platform in Amsterdam And I nearly missed my train And I felt so defeated 'til I jumped on to see All the warm smiles were for me yeah I made my train and it made me so happy I made my train and it made me forget everything It made me forget, made me forget, made me forget Made me forget everything It made me forget, made me forget, made me forget Made me forget everythingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
