歌词
Jumping on the knife tips of mountain tops
This is what it's become, a balance act
Where did you come from?
Intruding my cloud with your bedtime stories
Your whispers summon the rain
There's a man on his porch sitting in his rocking chair
Pitch black, in the middle of nowhere holding his lamp
You may be invisible, but there is still a shadow
Leaving residue of oppression in the room
Robbing the peace, corrupting the music on a thread so thin all you see is the dead endings
In a world of sharp objects
The use of guilt to make the fear and fear to keep you down underground
Love is a long way down on
The road back to your home
Would you like to go backwards?
Would you like to go backwards?
Would you like to go backwards?
Would you like to go backwards?