Tiny

In tiny rhythms Is this code That breaks itself down As it goes It speaks in simple Easy prose If you look and you listen, You will know That I've turned to face the wind But I can't be up there long at all It's the air and I've tried, but I can't (Oh, I can't) 'Cause it's bloody freezing In the dark And burning up by dawn I've turned to face the wind But I might turn my back again And it feels like Sunday afternoon Downtown, the people have all long gone home (Gone home) The shops all shuttered On empty roads But you just keep on keepin' on I've turned to face the wind And I might turn my back again