Late - Arthur Beatrice

Of all the pieces

We were leaning for

The middle of the life

Is one we know no more

We need to know no more

And i am a stone

That you are shaping out

Carving up bone

To form a face so proud

For on the inside round

Holding reason

Nothing i can say seems right

Hollow feeling

Hidden any last respite

New weight leaning

You’re never gonna get this right

Hand on womb

In white so clean

A national gesture

For the bride in me

Oh for the child beneath

A merge with plaster

In a nursery world

Redeeming the features

As a family fault

Believe the warning call

Holding reason

Nothing i can say seems right

Hollow feeling

Hidden any last respite

New weight leaning

You’re never gonna get this right

Holding reason

Nothing i can say seems right

Hollow feeling

Hidden any last respite

New weight leaning

You’re never gonna get this right

Although i’d feeling nothing to

Beating every part of you

Oh if i’d known i’d feel such remorse

We’d be trading an outlook for yours

All that i say and what i do

Will never be enough for you

Oh i could be someone adored

Can be draining the red from your pores

Holding reason

Nothing i can say seems right

Hollow feeling

Hidden any last respite

New weight leaning

You’re never gonna get this right

Holding reason

Nothing i can say seems right

Hollow feeling

Hidden any last respite

New weight leaning

You’re never gonna get this right