Amsterdam
DaughterBreathing flames from thoraces tray
Your eyes go gray finding
You lock your gaze on to my face
Heavy eye clothing on the roadside
Swinging from the street lights
I hope by the morning I will have grown back
By the morning I will have grown back
I'll escape with him
Show him all my skin
Then I'll go
I'll go home
Amsterdam
I'm a flying kite in the breeze just
Restlessly seeking images a child needs to help them sleep
I've been thinking that I should see someone
Just to find out if I'm alright
By the morning I would've grown back
By the morning I would've grown back
I'll escape with him
Showing all my skin
Then I'll go
I'll go home
Amsterdam
I used to dream of
Adventure
When I was younger
With lungs miniature
But now we're killing
Our brain cells
Is this called living
Or something else
Or something else
By the morning I would've grown back
By the morning I would've grown back
By the morning I would've grown back
By the morning I would've grown back