Paroles
The morning leads me over to my window
The air feels sharp against my skin
Am I leaning out, or the outside leaning in?
I wonder as I listen to the wind blow
People walk past in the streets
A city that I will never meet
People in their cars and their cars in the streets
The streets in the city where I sleep
Walk down to the supermarket
Milk and bread in my basket
Chocolate on the shelf and my mind on the docket
I'm a slave to the change that's in my pocket
Planes drawing lines in the skies
Beautiful people fill my eyes
Drawing lines now to my own conclusions
Beauty is desire in disguise
The morning leads me over to my window
The air feels sharp against my skin
Am I leaning out, or the outside leaning in?
I wonder as I listen to the wind blow
