Tide - Wooden Arms
This well Tempered Clavier makes clear
What sticks in this clavicle
Oh unknown thought
You are intangible
Oh distraught voice
You are unfathomable
And so it goes
Oh Son of Man
Why do you seek
The living amongst the dead
Is it better to die
Amongst the living
Then to live
Amongst the dead
Son of man
Why do you seek
The living amongst the dead
Is it better to die
Amongst the living
Then to live
Amongst the dead
Oh such sensitivity
Oh such capacious animosity
Were you born this way
Did you choose to be
Such an arsehole
So much for subtlety
You'll reap what you sow girl
So it will be
So the story goes
It never ceases to ebb and flow
