Hands in line
Arms close to my side
I′m fighting tides of an ocean′s undertow
And I figure that I just might make it
And I′m taking empty
But seldom sleeping
And the words retreat breathing histories into something unknown and stories untold
And my arms unfold.
My hands are high
And I′m holding out, I′m holding up
And I figure that I, I figure that I just might make it
And I′m waking empty but seldom sleeping
And the words repeat breathing histories into stories untold
And I unfold.
Quality is what you see now in the corner of your eye.
So, don′t be surprised if you hear the bells ring
They form from the sky and they sound bong, bong, bong
...
She loves me...
My sweet thing is calling for me.
...
And I′m holding up because I figure that I just make it.
And I′m waking empty but seldom sleeping
And the words repeat breathing histories into stories untold
And I unfold