The Observer - SiNCH

Sing your sad song everyday

Will you sing it on the say that you die?

And all the while

All around you

The sun seems now to be setting

On all that’s left of your old life

Sellers of the moon

Sellers of the sky

Centers of what you understand

Now you can’t sing everyday

Have you ever really taken a stand?

Maybe your disgraced

Maybe it’s not alright

Maybe that’s okay

Is it now?

Or is it now, now, now, oh?

Do your sad dance on display

You’ll be dancing on the day that you die

I haven’t felt, haven’t felt the kiss

Of the long slow scent of goodbye

Tattoo on the neck

Sensual refined

The crest of the sun and the moon

If you can’t dance every day

I hope that someday they’ll be dancing for you

Maybe your disgraced

Maybe it’s not alright

Maybe that’s okay

Is it now?

Now who are you to point

Your fat little fingers?

You barely know that back of your own hand

Now who are you to grasp

With frustrated fingers?

You barely know the back of your own

Barely know the back of your own hand

Hands

Hands

Hands

Hands

Hands

I only wanted to shine for you

Philosophies

And your bullshit

Listen through the years

slowly we succumb to the campaign of fear

You never know how far it goes

'Till you throw yourself right in

You were born to the light

Why not let it shine?

Philosophies

And your bullshit

I listen through the years

And slowly I succumb to the campaign of fear

You never know how far it goes

'Till you throw yourself right in

You were born from the light

Why not let it shine?

You were born from the light

So let it shine