Слова:
Six Pence None The Richer Divine Discontent

It's everyday, I'm in this place I feel this way, I feel the same It's everyday, I'm in this place I feel this way, I feel the same Is it all inside

I'm like, Thomas doubting Fingers routing the scars in your wrists and side Touching flesh will make my mind believe But I want to be, like David Throw

do I murder when I forget you from afar too drunk on the poison of endless roads and the countless smokey bars but tension is to be loved when it is

Eyes wide open all the time Just like a drug store in the city Where she walks the streets at night Time keeps ticking like the ocean through a siv Ever

You're a painting with symbols deep, a symphony Soft as it shifts from dark beneath A poem that flows caressing my skin In all of these things you reside