Tight short jogging
Lengthy mirror lacking
In the company of strangers
Each a version of yourself
Angsty flavoured whispers
Dwelling upon throat clears
Two wicks begin a same point journey
And relieved, sigh at the sight of phlegm
There's something in the air
There's a storm coming
Plastic pint cup binging
Lacking ear ringing
3 wheeled maniac does a spin
As mother's gripping digits rigid
Steer clear from the choker
The weekend chain smoker
And the hot headed reveller
Who's as calm as the tideless sea
There's something in the air
There's a storm coming
Tempted by an offer
Of course a taken upon deed
Grab all the novelties you can
Worn out rule enforcer
Flaunt and fiddler scolder
No longer shall thee grip so tight
A deed thee did not write
There's something in the air
There's a storm coming
Never giving uppers
Obstinate and rightly so
These kings will not abdicate
And why in King's name would they?
Futile notions plaguing
Locked cage doors erupting
A healthy state of being
Is not the state we're tasting
Blue is the colour of the month
Blue is the colour of the year
Blue is not the heavy sky above us
There's a storm coming
There's something in the air
There's a storm coming
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
