We stumble into each other's lives and we knock some things over
Try not to make a sound
Each time you reach out, a new shout or shine-on
We run in and fall out, fumble around for the key
I'll always keep the light on for you
You try so hard to be alive
What else can you do, but close your eyes
You can't see the beautiful way when you're burning so bright
Your halfpenny eyes smile like a fire-sale
Everyone's a suspect, the horses won't move up the rail
Your sadness, a thief, waits in the hallway
With mail on the floor and 2 birds in the chimney
Artist: Azymuth
Artist: Highly Suspect
Artist: Sub-urban Tribe