Charades Songtext
von Z Berg
Charades Songtext
I′ve never owned a camera, the pictures in my mind
Instantly forgotten in the haste of passing time
Put away your pedestal, hide your crystal ball
If you find me out, please let me know, I'd love to get the call
We drift on the surface and die in the depths
As the skipping stone sinks to its grave
Charades, charades, charades
Sunday driving on a Tuesday afternoon
I remember days that could never end too soon
Ice melts, flashes fade, the chill will make you ache
For the quiet of sobriety, I prayed that it would stay
We drift on the surface and die in the depths
As the skipping stone sinks to its grave
Charades, charades, charades
A dream of form
In days of thought
I sought to remain
But weary eyes
Make heavy hearts
That long to be chained
I think it was the record, but it sounded like the house
If the music weren′t so loud, you could hear me crying out
Like two gut string guitars tuned a half step apart
You can't tell me what you need and so, I give you what I want
We drift on the surface and die in the depths
Every skipping stone sinks to its grave
Charades, charades, charades
Charades, charades, charades
Instantly forgotten in the haste of passing time
Put away your pedestal, hide your crystal ball
If you find me out, please let me know, I'd love to get the call
We drift on the surface and die in the depths
As the skipping stone sinks to its grave
Charades, charades, charades
Sunday driving on a Tuesday afternoon
I remember days that could never end too soon
Ice melts, flashes fade, the chill will make you ache
For the quiet of sobriety, I prayed that it would stay
We drift on the surface and die in the depths
As the skipping stone sinks to its grave
Charades, charades, charades
A dream of form
In days of thought
I sought to remain
But weary eyes
Make heavy hearts
That long to be chained
I think it was the record, but it sounded like the house
If the music weren′t so loud, you could hear me crying out
Like two gut string guitars tuned a half step apart
You can't tell me what you need and so, I give you what I want
We drift on the surface and die in the depths
Every skipping stone sinks to its grave
Charades, charades, charades
Charades, charades, charades
Writer(s): Z Berg Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com