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lyrics

there was a cold wind blowing the house in
there was knocking and talk in slow motion
on paper it felt like i mean it
the ink spilt, it bled across the pavement

i don't really know who you are
and i don't really know what you think
about the way that it all fell apart
go back to the place that we started from

there was a safety pin holding my thoughts in place
there was a moment long since forgot in space
on paper it looked like it ended
the ink spilt, the colours blended

now i don't really know where you've been
and i don't want to know what you think
about the way that it all came apart
go back to the place that we started from

though i don't really know where that is
i don't want to know what you think about this
our old navigation tricks
were more like a bandaid than the real fix

should i say that i'm glad that you're here?
should i turn over the hour glass?
the sand runs out either way
i'm glad that there's not much in there
the weight of the world is too much for me to bear

credits

from Angels are real; they live in our heads, released November 7, 2015

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gillian schnurr Toronto, Ontario

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