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We live on a mountain, |
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Right at the top. |
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There's a beautiful view |
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From the top of the mountain. |
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Every morning, I walk towards the edge |
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And throw little things off |
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Like car-parts, bottles and cutlery, |
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Or whatever I find lying around. |
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It's become a habit; |
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A way |
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To start the day. |
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CHORUS: |
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I go through all this |
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Before you wake up, |
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So I can feel happier |
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To be safe up here with you. |
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REPEAT CHORUS. |
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It's real early morning; |
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No-one is awake. |
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I'm back at my cliff |
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Still throwing things off. |
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I listen to the sounds they make |
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On their way down. |
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I follow with my eyes 'till they crash; |
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I imagine what my body would sound like |
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Slamming against those rocks. |
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And when it lands |
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Will my eyes |
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Be closed or open? |
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CHORUS x3. |
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Safe up here with you. x16 |
