| [00:00.00] |
|
| [00:31.29] |
I'd like to sneak around your house |
| [00:34.84] |
When everyone's asleep |
| [00:38.22] |
Tiptoe across the door-room mat |
| [00:42.04] |
That used to welcome me |
| [00:45.38] |
Then gently shut the door |
| [00:48.59] |
To see a brand-new Christmas tree |
| [00:52.94] |
And the silence pounds like a kettle drum |
| [00:56.70] |
And a chill runs through me |
| [00:58.61] |
|
| [01:01.08] |
But does she ever miss me? |
| [01:04.47] |
I still hear her singing |
| [01:08.47] |
Just like an orchestra, just like a painting |
| [01:15.64] |
With velvet brushes and wooden framing |
| [01:23.01] |
She's a familiar Monet that's worth renaming |
| [01:29.47] |
The scar |
| [01:32.80] |
|
| [01:33.52] |
I choked up the dirt, completely hurt |
| [01:38.29] |
I ran straight through them all |
| [01:41.02] |
Then pushed aside what's left of pride |
| [01:44.96] |
And trembled through the hall |
| [01:48.25] |
And there stands a door you'd seen before |
| [01:52.30] |
When all you knew you was down |
| [01:56.00] |
And your perfume breath brought peaceful death |
| [01:59.84] |
On sleepy silver gowns |
| [02:02.59] |
|
| [02:04.15] |
But does she ever miss me? |
| [02:07.38] |
I still hear her singing |
| [02:11.42] |
Just like an orchestra, just like a painting |
| [02:18.72] |
With velvet brushes and wooden framing |
| [02:25.88] |
She's a familiar Monet that's worth renaming |
| [02:32.09] |
The scar |
| [02:34.72] |
|
| [02:35.08] |
Yeah, to wake is such a dreaded thing |
| [02:38.29] |
To sleep is such a hole |
| [02:41.58] |
I eat without your company |
| [02:45.74] |
I drink till I unfold |
| [02:49.09] |
And now hear the end of everything |
| [02:52.99] |
Just thrown onto the ground |
| [02:56.18] |
But October fell and broke my shell |
| [03:00.38] |
And all I knew was down |
| [03:03.11] |
|
| [03:36.37] |
But does she ever miss me? (Hold my hand) |
| [03:39.32] |
I still hear her singing. (Hold my soul) |
| [03:43.29] |
Just like an orchestra, (Angels sing I'm staving), just like a painting. |
| [03:50.66] |
With velvet brushes (My ears swell cold), |
| [03:54.41] |
And wooden framing (Hold my soul), |
| [03:57.93] |
She's a familiar Monet (Angels call her), that's worth renaming, |
| [04:04.49] |
the scar (the scar). |
| [04:11.65] |
|
| [04:12.41] |
Hold my hand (so they crush them in), |
| [04:14.22] |
Hold my soul. |
| [04:17.66] |
Angels sing I'm staving (the scar). |
| [04:24.44] |
My ears swell cold (so they crush them in), |
| [04:30.00] |
Hold my soul. |
| [04:30.81] |
Angels call her the scar. |
