clique para tocar Fechar
Thom Yorke
suspirium
This is a waltz thinking about our bodiesWhat they mean for our salvation
Only the clothes that we stand up in
Just the ground on which we stand
Is the darkness ours to take?
Bathed in lightning, bathed in heat
All is well, as long as we keep spinning
Here now, desert on a wall
Only old songs and laughter we hear
Are forgiven always and never been true
When I arrive you come and find me
Or in a crowd you wander round
All the road signs black with silence
Now tomorrow's at peace?