short sleeves and warm skin losing coins calling next of kin dropping words about the city were in ponds compressed by heavy air us with out care just sprawling there gods in our world airports and undergrounds waiting to find the unfound rising to pure insanityhere when you want me true love has no simplicity gods in our world yuo and i were going so high the air is getting thin but our land does not breathe in and we don't nedd oxygen its dreams that blind us and locks us in the rest are impaled by sense

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): ADAM PHILLIPS, EMIN ARASOVICH AGALAROV, PATRICK RICHARD MASCALL, PAUL MEEHAN