When I’m riding home at night now
I get in so tired
To the saws and bows that spell out
E-M-P-T-Y
But driving west now, half past five
My skin is cut, my hands are knives
I could be anyone alive
But I just can't fit and it's too late to quit
When the night air comes to me
I wonder if the days I've lived through count
With the world strung like a rosary
Through faces moving in the crowd
What is the colour and the number
When the happiness begins?
When the knight waits in the laurels
Hesitating
I found a clarity I'd never known
In fag-end weeks before I left for school
The darkness in the pylons and the smoke and creosote
Canceling the faces that we knew
Did they forget the light inside your eyes?
Those simple words, those lover's sighs?
The hand is dealt, the cards are played
But I just can't fit and it's too late to acquit
I saw them and I knew them all
Inside a sheet of flame
I saw them and I knew them all
Inside a sheet of flame
When I’m riding home at night now
I get in so tired
To the saws and bows that spell out
E-M-P-T-Y
E-M-P-T-Y
E-M-P-T-Y
E.M.P.T.Y. Lyrics performed by The Clientele are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that E.M.P.T.Y. Lyrics performed by The Clientele is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD