|
Well, this stone that I have swallowed |
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Isn't going down so well |
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And this road that I have followed |
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Is leading me to Hell |
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And you said it didn't matter |
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But I think you're a liar |
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Is this one of your talents |
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Stokes the very fire that burns you |
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Each time you try to live |
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The earth will turn below you |
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The pressure is building |
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And something has to give |
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And when I build you a steeple |
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You say it's incomplete |
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'Cause you need the whole cathedral |
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To satisfy your need |
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And you're like a paper aeroplane |
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That never seems to land |
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Flying blind through anything |
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Straight into the hand that chokes you |
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Each time you try to live |
|
The earth will turn below you |
|
The pressure is building |
|
And something has to give |
|
Something has to give |
|
Something has to give |
|
Something has to give |
