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Sculpted clay, paper scraps, bits of wood, old belt scraps |
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Everyone is looking for their friend |
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Hearts, balloons and broken wings, a puppet dangles by his strings |
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And dreams of who is on the other end |
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And we are working upon this canvas |
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And it is perfect, and it is madness |
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We are only just beginning, we're only just beginning |
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To unearth this ancient sadness |
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See them scurry and toil, watch them sift through the soil |
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Something very large is buried in this ground |
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Yes, they've torn the surface all apart, but never even glimpsed the heart |
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They're going to have to go much deeper down |
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And we are working upon this canvas |
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And it is perfect, and it is madness |
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But we are only just beginning, only just beginning |
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To unearth this ancient sadness |
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They've packed up the tents and stages, put the lions back in cages |
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Yes, the carnival is over for the year |
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And it's sad to watch the party end, but I'm still looking for my friend |
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And oh, somehow she's never been so near |
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And we are working upon this canvas |
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And it is perfect, perfect madness |
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But we are only just beginning, only just beginning |
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To unearth this ancient sadness |
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We are only just beginning, we're only just beginning |
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We are only just beginning, we're only just beginning |
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We are only just beginning, we are only just beginning |
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We're only just beginning, only just beginning |
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Only just, only just, we're only just beginning |
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Only just beginning, we're only just beginning |
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We are only just beginning |
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We've only just begun, and hearts will fly |
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Only just beginning, only just beginning, only just beginning |
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And hearts begin to fly |
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Only just beginning, only just beginning, only just beginning |
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And hearts begin to fly |
