Anything

Sixpence None The Richer

This is my forty-fifth
deressing tune. They're looking for money as they clean
myartistic womb. And when I give birth to the child I must take
to flight, 'cause the black in our pocket won't let us fight
aproper fight. So hey baby, can you shed some light on the
problem maybe? 'Cause we`re all tired and we'd like know if we
should pack our tents, shut down the show. Yes, we should like to
see a burning bush-type sign. But anything would be fine. We#re
all told to dance but we never picked the tune. Hanging like
puppets they feed us from bent steel spoons. But we're sealing
our lips for the someday when the needle and the vinyl play all
the songs of the pain, songs that explain all our circles and
stains. So hey baby, can you shed some light on the problem
maybe? 'Cause we're all crying and we'd like to know if we should
pack our tents, shut down the show. Yes, we should like to see a
burning bush-type sign. But anything would be fine. We're all
dying and we'd like to know if w!
e should pack our tents, shut down the show. "Yes, we should
like to see you pack your tents, shut down your show."Yes,
we should like to see a burning bush-type sign. But anything
would be fine. Oh, anything would be fine.