Why burn poor and lonely
Under a bowl, under a lampshade?
Or on the shelf beside the bed
Where at night you lay turning like a door on it’s hinges?
First on your left side
Then on your right side
Then your left side again
Why burn poor and lonely?
Tell all the stones we’re gonna make a building
We’ll cut into shape
And set into place or you’d rather be a window?
I’ll gladly be the frame
Reflecting any kind of words, we’ll let in all the blame
And ruin our reputation all the same
So, never mind out plan making
We’ll start living
Anyway, aren’t you unbearably sad?
Then why burn so poor and lonely?
We’ll be like torches
We’ll be like torches
We’ll be like torches, no
We’ll be torches together
Torches together
We’ll be like torches
We’ll be like torches
With whatever out respect
Tattered dignity demands
Torches together
Hand in hand
Why pluck one string
What good is just one note?
Oh, one string sounds fine, I guess, but
We were once our notes
We were lonely wheat
Quietly ground into grain
What light and momentary pain
So, why his safe distance?
This curious look?
Why tear our single pages when you can throw away the book?
Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar?
Strum the guitar
Strum the guitar
Strum the guitar with no beginning, with no end
Take down a guitar
And strum the guitar
Strum the guitar if you’re afraid
And I’m afraid and everyone’s afraid
And everyone knows it
But we don’t have to be afraid anymore
You played the flute, but no one was dancing
You sang a sad song and none of us cried
You played the flute, but no one was dancing
You sang a sad song and none of us cried
You played the flute, but no one was dancing
You sang a sad song and none of us cried
You played the flute, but no one was dancing
You sang a sad song, you sang a sad song
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