The sound of the street
Sound of the year it is
Melted like ice
Colors the things inside
And all that you hear
Are birds in your ...
There's gold in your eyes
There's gold in my hands sometimes
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
The thickness of staves (?)
The darkness thoughts and words
Have little to do
A lot to be thoughtsome through
And all that you hear
Is dust moving underground
There's dust in your eyes
There's dust in my hands
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Sound of the year it is
Melted like ice
Colors the things inside
And all that you hear
Are birds in your ...
There's gold in your eyes
There's gold in my hands sometimes
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
The thickness of staves (?)
The darkness thoughts and words
Have little to do
A lot to be thoughtsome through
And all that you hear
Is dust moving underground
There's dust in your eyes
There's dust in my hands
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
Don't block our sun
( Lola kite )
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