Woorden: Beady Belle. Come Home.

I cover my ears
And drop in the pin
In desolate silence
Any needle will din

Come home
Come home

Suddenly stillness
Is menacing now
And all this emptiness
Pressing somehow

Come home
Come home

The hours move
At a creep
What can I do
All art is put to sleep

I twiddle my thumbs
In fidgety rest
The air has become
Stagnant in my chest

My pitiful pastime
Has no axe to grind
The void left behind you
Is proven in my mind

Come home
Come home
Come home
Come home
Come home
Come home
Come home