| Swing low in the dark glass hour |
| You turn and cower see it turn to dust |
| Move on the stoned dark night |
| We take to flight |
| Snowfall turns to rust |
| Seems an infusion mine like a nursing rhyme |
| Fat man starts to fall |
| Here in a hostile place I hear your face starts to call |
| And if you think that I’ve been losing my way |
| That’s because I’m slightly blinded |
| And if you think that I don’t make too much sense |
| That’s because I’m broken minded |
| Don’t keep it |
| If you believe it |
| Don’t keep it all inside (no, no). |
| Strong words in a Ganges sky I have to lie |
| Shadows move in pairs |
| Ring out from a blue sports car in the shooting yard |
| Looking through the tears |
| Out of the black slate time we move in line |
| But never reach an end |
| Falling along straight town as the ice comes down |
| River starts to bend |
| And if you think that I’ve been losing my way |
| That’s because I’m slightly blinded |
| And if you think that I don’t make too much sense |
| That’s because I’m broken minded |
| Don’t keep it |
| If you believe it |
| Don’t keep it all inside (no, no). |
| Don’t keep it |
| If you believe it |
| Don’t keep it all inside (no, no). |
| Don’t keep it |
| If you believe it |
| Don’t keep it all inside (no, no). |