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I watch the snow fall on the streets, |
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Dead hearts are waking up, up to see. |
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The black eyes cross the grass, |
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Asleep on the bridge. |
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A man along the edge, |
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Drops away his pain. |
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Screaming out for another feeling, |
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Paper houses, cutting corners. |
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Screaming out for another feeling, |
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All these houses, no-one wants them. |
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The photographs your father made back in 82, |
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All the while we stand here watching, pitying the fools. |
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Screaming out for another feeling, |
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Paper houses, cutting corners. |
|
Screaming out for another feeling, |
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All these houses, no-one wants them. |
|
Paper houses, cutting corners. |
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All these houses, no-one wants them. |
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Glorified spectators, |
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Glorified. |
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Screaming out for another feeling, |
|
Paper houses, cutting corners. |
|
Screaming out for another feeling, |
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All these houses, no-one wants them now. |
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All these houses, no-one wants them now. |
|
Paper houses, cutting corners. |
