I'm always looking for the windows.
Take a look outside, try to compromise with my brain
I think that better days are ahead now
Then in comes the rain, smog will rise again
I hope you listen to your soul when it comes home
I hope you listen to the bells
Sometimes life feels much shorter the further we continue
Don't burn the wood of your own chair.
I see white blankets all around you
A fresh start every day, focal points in frame
And I hope that pictures sharp, and its vivid
A reflection of your day, not blown out in any way
I hope you listen to your soul when it comes home
I hope you listen to the bells
Sometimes life feels much shorter the further we continue
Don't burn the wood of your own chair.
I hope you listen to your soul when it comes home
I hope you listen to the bells
Sometimes life feels much shorter the further we continue
Don't burn the wood of your own chair."