I don’t know you but I want all the more for that.
Words fall through me and always fool me
And I can’t react.
And games that never amount
To more than they’re meant
Will play themselves out.
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We’ve still got time.
Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice.
You’ve made it now.
Falling slowly, eyes that know me, and I can’t go back.
And moods that take me and erase me, and I’m painted black.
Falling Slowly || Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova