Woorden: Miles Kane. Colour Of The Trap. Quicksand.

You're riding on this wave of blue sequins
You're smimmering
Tango, Foxtrot, I'm in trouble
Can you hear clammer louder and louder

I see you falling gently on to the cobbles
Skipping into the quicksand
Not into my arms

You see I'm falling
Gently on the cobbles
Skipping into the quicksand
Not into your arms

Ears drop, drip, drip, driping down my ears
Flood gates and tears
Delicate and gently does it
Won't you dedcite your hate to another

(Merci a Chloe pour cettes paroles)