The morning sun is a soft reminder
The graceful arc of a kind word
The curvature of your naked body
The songs you make at night
The crooked throat of an old survivor
The pain we feel when we feel free
The weekend lost on a pointless labour
Talking in your sleep
Ooh, and the shapes you’re making
Ooh, and you are sleepwalking
Ooh, and you are vibrating
I listen what you’re saying
(I hate this place, it smells of men and d**h)
Everything is up in the air like a bird without a home
Everything is all in your mind if you see things that way
Everything is harder to do if it’s either wrong or right
The songs you make at night
Nothing is a thing you can do if you hold onto yourself
Nowhere is a place in the world where no-one knows you
Nothing is a thing you can be if you hold your failures tight
The moves you make at night
Ooh, and the shapes you’re making
Ooh, and you are sleepwalking
Ooh, and you are vibrating
I listen what you’re saying
The morning sun is a soft reminder
The graceful arc of a kind word
The curvature of your naked body
The songs you make at night
Ooh, and the shapes you’re making
Ooh, and you are sleepwalking
Ooh, and you are vibrating
I listen what you’re saying
Ooh, and the shapes you’re making
Ooh, and you are sleepwalking
Ooh, and you are vibrating
I listen what you’re saying
Ooh, and the shapes you’re making
Ooh, and you are sleepwalking
Ooh, and you are vibrating
Ooh, and you are vibrating
Ooh, and you are vibrating