|
She may be young but she only likes old things, |
|
And modern music it ain't to her taste, |
|
She loves the natural light, captured in black and white, |
|
She sees mirages of mountain ranges, |
|
Within a blink of her eyes it changes, |
|
Back to the open plain, oh no she can't explain. |
|
I cry out "Love keep your arms around me", |
|
I am a bird that's in need of grounding, |
|
I'm built to fly away, I never learned how to stay. |
|
The night is gonna fall and the vultures will surround you, |
|
And when you're lookin' in the mirror what you see is gon' astound you. |
|
But all these lines and greys refine, they are the maps of our design, |
|
Of what began on a Monday morning. |
|
Monday morning, Monday morning, |
|
Ooh, ooh, |
|
Monday morning, Monday morning, |
|
Ooh, ooh, |
|
The night is gonna fall and the vultures will surround you, |
|
And when you're lookin' in the mirror what you see is gon' astound you. |
|
But all these lines and greys refine, they are the maps of our design, |
|
Of what began on a Monday morning. |
|
Oh yes the night is gonna fall, and the vultures will surround you, |
|
And when you're lookin' in the mirror what you see is gon' astound you. |
|
And all the glow of you from inside the room, |
|
Is burning on inside of you, it all began on a Monday morning. |
|
Monday morning, Monday morning, |
|
Ooh, ooh. |
