It was the dead of summer and it felt like the beginning and end.
Days bled into each other, I heard music that would bruise me how could I be the same again?
Like seeing in colour for the first time,
Now hate has a brother, he’s a friend of mine.
And now you got me singing at the top of my lungs
“What is going on?”
Singing at the top of my lungs
“Do you know this song?”
Singing at the top of my lungs
“What is going on?”
It’s blocked out the sun.
It gave me the words to say where I’ve been.
To carve out of stone the things that I’ve seen.
And now you got me singing at the top of my lungs
“What is going on?”
Singing at the top of my lungs
“Do you know this song?”
Singing at the top of my lungs
“What is going on?”
It’s blocked out the sun.
The years started weighing heavy on my feet,
I didn’t even notice I’m on my own.
I replaced the bone now with slab and stone.
I didn’t even notice I’m on my own.
I stopped in my tracks like I’d been robbed.
The chorus kicked in I wasn’t singing along.
The words were the same; the meaning was lost.
That’s how I found out I’d grown out of your songs.
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