Sitting on a mountian to in my living room
I hear the voices of the croud all around
And I half recognise this hiding place
Ribboned in a distance that sourrounds
And I hear my name

Words lost in a song now
And I hear a call - my name
But the song is not the same

My fingers in the sky
Stirring up the colors - messing with the heavens
Messing with a song that I should know
As I half recognise this distance that sorounds
And I hear my name

Words lost in a song now...

And in the song there is an answer
To a question I've forgotton or maybe never known
And in my heart there is a fever
Burning like another
feeling...
I should know