Текст: Six Pence None The Richer. Drifting.

Drifting away from You
Pinning down to the pinpoint drop of isolation
In a spell, walking away from the fire
That keeps my heart from turning to ice

Golden feet grace the surface of the sea
Sinking deeper I view them from underneath
Flailing, kicking as I head for the deep
I question a hypothetical lead supper
Oh, God receive my outstretched hand

Will, I inhale the blue
Spinning down upon the glass, a ghost towards realization
Of a cell enclosing the hauntings of a past
That blind the eyes and rust the heart

Golden feet grace the surface of the sea
Sinking deeper I view them from underneath
Flailing, kicking as I head for the deep
I question a hypothetical lead supper
Oh God receive my outstretched hand

So I fell, I need You to take my hand
And keep my heart from ice

Golden feet grace the surface of the sea
Sinking deeper I view them from underneath
Golden feet grace the surface of the sea
Sinking deeper I view them from underneath
Flailing, kicking as I head for the deep