his song inside of me
There’s something strange in the way he’s sitting there
strumming his guitar, hasn’t talked for hours.
he’s staring at the wall and i can tell
that boy can see the stars on ugly plaster
and he can look right trough these dirty city walls.
don’t stare if you can help it, and don’t say anything
or he might put those black sunglasses on
an then you’ll be the one who robbed us of his eyes.
they say that prophets only live in history and
heroes are just there for legends
but he’s right there now, isn’t he?
and he can tell you love him, so be quiet now.
