Man, I feel like a peasant in rags on a battlefield
Out and about for a daily morning stroll
I can't stop my mind coming back to the places
That's guaranteed to leave me full of holes
These arms are smouldering sticks and there's no one to blame
With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames
Yeah, we wax poetic at a cafe
Justify the need to reconcile
A tongue checks the same familiar ulcer
Knowing it's gonna be there all the while
These arms are smouldering sticks and there's no one to blame
With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames
And if we're breathing in smoke then I'll ignore the pain
With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames
Yeah, we wax poetic at a party
Justify the need to leave your mind
A snow capped vista, steady surface
I don't usually have the coin or the time
These arms are smouldering sticks and there's no one to blame
With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames
And if we're breathing in smoke then I'll ignore the pain
With a hand outstretched reaching into the flames
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
