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Paris

de Windser

39 degrees shaking in the streets
Maybe we could find some peace
In Germany, or Italy, the islands of Greece
Something you just have to leave

Before you turn a shade of grey
Like the pavement after the rain
I'll be listening, I'll be listening

When your life capsizes
Your head is underwater
I'll hold you close, I'll hold you close

When the knife comes rising
Your mind starts to wander
I'll shake your bones, I'll shake your bones

Blood is running colder than you've ever known
Intuition takes control
Heavy seas are turning circles where we go
Maybe we should let them roll

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