Sweep the dirty stairs, the ones I waited on.
This is just for me.
I felt it watching her.
And It happens too fast to make sense of it.
To make it last.
It happens too fast to make sense of it.
To make it last
Where do you intend to go with your dirty dress?
Lead my skeptic sight to the table and the light.
It happened too fast to make sense of it.
To make it last.
It happened too fast to make sense of it.
To make it last.
Lead my skeptic sight.
Lead my skeptic sight.
Not asking of me anything, saying nothing about what it means,
Without anybody telling me how I should feel,
Not asking of me anything, saying nothing about what it means,
Without anybody telling me how I should feel,
What I should do
Writer(s): Zachary Lind, Richard E Burch, Thomas Darrell Linton, James Christopher Adkins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com