Woorden: The Stills. Without Feathers. It Takes Time.

In your mouth
In the moment
In your soul, your apartment
It takes time

In your shoes
In your toes
You know
What nobody knows
It takes time

You can talk your way out

At your piano lesson
At the delicatessen

It takes time
It takes time

At the bank
On the bus
In your transparent
Midnight drugs
In your crimes

You can talk you're way out