Camera
Michael Mills, Bill Berry, Peter Buck, Michael Stipe
In the corporate land
In the offices of double-digit floors
Eyes on a wayward move
It's a shame you never played
Never learned to remind you
I've gotta remember
Do you remember my trust lost?
Descending from a crowd
And all the city streets are loud
You were born to be a camera
A pocket of memories
An installation set up on your bedroom floor
Makes you sing about the photographs before
Before you run off to the lazy store
Run back there ask for more
Ascending from a crowd
(Ascending Ascending Ascending)
These city streets they are too loud
(And all the city streets are loud)
You were born to be a camera
(Born born born to be a camera)
And all, all the flutters shut