Oxygen
Mark Greaney
Short sleeves and warm skin
losing coins calling next of kin
dropping words about the city we're in
ponds compressed by heavy air
us without care just sprawling there
god's in our world
airports and undergrounds
waiting to find the unfound
rising to pure insanity
here when you want me true love
has no simplicity
god's in our world
you and i
we're going so high
the air is getting thin
but our land does not breathe in
we don't need oxygen
it's dreams that binds us and locks us in
the rest are impaled by sense
[solo]
you and i
we're going so high
the air is getting thin
but our land could not breathe in
we don't need oxygen
it's dreams that binds us and locks us in
the rest are impaled by sense