|
The newsreel is rolling, words are at an all time cheap |
|
The more they are talking, the less it means to me |
|
A terrifying feeling creeping in without a sound |
|
I know it'll pin me if I stop to turn around |
|
Casting off again, not knowing where to land |
|
Drifting in a brand new kind of blue |
|
Hoping that I'm only passing through |
|
The ache of a decade, the cure is overdue |
|
For this brand new kind of blue |
|
Floating through the ceiling, high up over the trees |
|
Saw a panoramic view of my whole history |
|
The city was all buzzing on every wire and track |
|
Through it all I heard a voice calling me to come back |
|
All those birthday cards buried out in the yard |
|
Casting off again, not knowing where to land |
|
Drifting in a brand new kind of blue |
|
Hoping that I'm only passing through |
|
The ache of a decade, the cure is overdue |
|
For this brand new kind of blue |
|
Drifting in a brand new kind of blue |
|
Drifting in a brand new kind of blue |
