Sweep - Hernan Cattaneo & John Tonks Little Intro Mix Lyrics
| Song | Sweep - Hernan Cattaneo & John Tonks Little Intro Mix |
| Artist | Blue Foundation |
| Album | Renaissance - Sequential - Volume 2 |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| The floor you walk on is smooth. | |
| There is no ground there. | |
| Magic begins with blood. | |
| Outside, there are trees, | |
| With concrete under their roots. | |
| But I have passed the tombs of kings, | |
| Regaled them with pacing, | |
| checked bins for food and wrappings. | |
| I have scoured the seas for miles, | |
| cloaked my face with ash. | |
| My fingertips opening, | |
| accepting my time. | |
| The dark cylinders of half-smoked cigarettes | |
| For me, I am your sorrow | |
| Calling in your dreams | |
| For me, I am your shadow | |
| Howling in the streets | |
| Tomorrow, I will walk the streets | |
| And steel myself for the familiar. | |
| Your eyes | |
| Will not settle, a hunger. | |
| You re be happier in your grave. | |
| When we meet, share stories, | |
| you stretch me. I see, | |
| I see a semi-circle of teeth. | |
| The dark cylinders of half-smoked cigarettes | |
| For me, I am your sorrow | |
| Calling in your dreams | |
| For me, I am your shadow | |
| Howling in the streets |
| The floor you walk on is smooth. | |
| There is no ground there. | |
| Magic begins with blood. | |
| Outside, there are trees, | |
| With concrete under their roots. | |
| But I have passed the tombs of kings, | |
| Regaled them with pacing, | |
| checked bins for food and wrappings. | |
| I have scoured the seas for miles, | |
| cloaked my face with ash. | |
| My fingertips opening, | |
| accepting my time. | |
| The dark cylinders of halfsmoked cigarettes | |
| For me, I am your sorrow | |
| Calling in your dreams | |
| For me, I am your shadow | |
| Howling in the streets | |
| Tomorrow, I will walk the streets | |
| And steel myself for the familiar. | |
| Your eyes | |
| Will not settle, a hunger. | |
| You re be happier in your grave. | |
| When we meet, share stories, | |
| you stretch me. I see, | |
| I see a semicircle of teeth. | |
| The dark cylinders of halfsmoked cigarettes | |
| For me, I am your sorrow | |
| Calling in your dreams | |
| For me, I am your shadow | |
| Howling in the streets |
| The floor you walk on is smooth. | |
| There is no ground there. | |
| Magic begins with blood. | |
| Outside, there are trees, | |
| With concrete under their roots. | |
| But I have passed the tombs of kings, | |
| Regaled them with pacing, | |
| checked bins for food and wrappings. | |
| I have scoured the seas for miles, | |
| cloaked my face with ash. | |
| My fingertips opening, | |
| accepting my time. | |
| The dark cylinders of halfsmoked cigarettes | |
| For me, I am your sorrow | |
| Calling in your dreams | |
| For me, I am your shadow | |
| Howling in the streets | |
| Tomorrow, I will walk the streets | |
| And steel myself for the familiar. | |
| Your eyes | |
| Will not settle, a hunger. | |
| You re be happier in your grave. | |
| When we meet, share stories, | |
| you stretch me. I see, | |
| I see a semicircle of teeth. | |
| The dark cylinders of halfsmoked cigarettes | |
| For me, I am your sorrow | |
| Calling in your dreams | |
| For me, I am your shadow | |
| Howling in the streets |
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