| Like a child could have the trigger,
|
| And the best man needn’t fall,
|
| To understand that heaven,
|
| Could be any place at all,
|
| Just five colours set in motion,
|
| And I try again to place it,
|
| And it’s features are obscured
|
| Everytime I turn to face it,
|
| But I still chase it.
|
| Oh it’s twists are cruel and hopeless,
|
| Like neglect has worn it thin,
|
| And it could rip the sky wide open,
|
| And let the rain come tumbling in.
|
| And we wait on every whisper,
|
| Like it makes us more alive,
|
| There’s a sense we didn’t have,
|
| And I feel it in the other five.
|
| See the pity and the pride
|
| In the same sea of emotion,
|
| Cup my hands and touch the tide,
|
| And expect to feel the ocean,
|
| It’s just a notion.
|
| And the knife has got my number,
|
| And the number that you keep,
|
| And the knife has called division,
|
| And it’s drawn when I’m asleep.
|
| Oh it’s twists are cruel and hopeless,
|
| Like neglect has worn it thin,
|
| And it could rip the sky wide open,
|
| And let the rain come tumbling in. |