Quiet

Oh you've got your reasons
Clouded from me

I touch only surface

Crested debris


But I've seen the refinery from 20,000ft

Ignite the sky and burn your paper wings

Silly thing



Still you live like you're dying
Just to breathe
Quiet, things are turning alabaster

Quiet, we don't want the house to burn



Caress the porch in whispered tones

We don't have long to be alone



With easter island dead ahead

It makes good sense

To break our bread in reverie

To our need 

So we live like we're dying just to breathe



Quiet, things are turning alabaster

Quiet, we don't want the house to burn



And we live like we're dying

And we live like we're dying