| I live under a giant cloud |
| Well its my shield, and its my shroud |
| At home on the range, but alone in the crowd |
| I plug my ears when it gets too loud, yah |
| So get that kinky noise out on the stage |
| With your spinnin curls in a purple rage |
| The sun in our eyes, and a burning sage |
| Youre all alone then you turn the page |
| Could it be? Yah it could be |
| Could it be? That youre for me, yah |
| Im lookin right to your head |
| And talkin to you seems to wake the dead |
| But right now you just said |
| I think were gonna break the bed |
| Hands in the air and knees on the ground |
| Dont be suprised if I fall around |
| We were over the water, when the plane went went |
| I was over my head and you let me drown |
| Could it be? Yah it could be |
| Could it be? That youre for me, yah |
| Im lookin right to your head |
| And talkin to you seems to wake the dead |
| But right now you just said |
| I think were gonna break the bed |
| Im lookin right to your head |
| And talkin to you seems to wake the dead |
| But right now you just said |
| I think were gonna break the bed |
| I think were gonna break the bed |