Burned off in the heat of an afternoon After six weeks straight soaked to the bone I was trembling, wondering could that knob still turn By this ash hand? Or would the motion mask the room In a grey winter? Does the silence and the sill know When will the wind blow? When will the wind blow?
When will it burn off? When will it burn off? When will it burn off? When will it burn off? When will it burn off? When will it burn off? When will it burn off? When will it burn off? Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh
Shaken, but couldn't shake it off of me Saw it, cloud of levity You were the nightingale, I was the wretched rail That takes the train away To chase elusive dollar on some breathless day
And then it burns off And then it burns off And then it burns off And then it burns off And then it burns off And then it burns off Why does it burn off? Why does it burn off? Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh
I must take a drink Before I meet the man I'm said to become Intertia crocodile Opens the door and you're eclipsed by the sun Uh
Burned off, yeah, in the heat of an afternoon After six weeks straight soaked to the bone, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Compositor: Brandon Steven Hagen (Vundabar) ECAD: Obra #31441270