Head in hands
Crumpled shirt
It's been a long day baby
At the office where you work
And outside the blue turned into black
But this room hasn't ever seen that
Behind tall buildings
And a stream
Of sprawling streets as far as you could see
You can feel the air
And the trees
Something whispers in your ear
Oh now you can breathe
Oh but the money won't make itself
And my time is somebody else's
And baby's mouth is wide
And I've got nowhere to hide
From you
And we were so small
In those arms
Raised up high
Name tasted on her tongue
And each of us
Is sewn in the seams
Patchwork landscape of oil and dust and greed
And I'm gonna make my way and bang a drum
'Til hands are sore in empty pockets my song is sung
Becuase colours outside begin to run
Like a painting in the rain
But one will just burn up in the sun
Oh but the money won't make itself
And my time is somebody else's
And baby's mouth is wide
And I've got nowhere to hide
From you
