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• Artiste: Stats
• Titre: On The Tip Of My Tongue
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When I was little, when I was a child I couldn't wait to be seven, didn’t want to be five There were girls and jokes that I couldn't get yet The jokes were aloof, the girls went over my head And it's so close I can almost touch it I feel the weight in the palm of my hand It’s so real I can almost taste it Right there, on the tip of my tongue Just out of reach So easily done that it couldn't be taught She said, “Don't be embarrassed, don't give it a thought” Shе pulled up in a lay-by near my house Wе undid our seat belts but we didn't get out And it's so close I can almost touch it I feel the weight in the palm of my hand It's so real I can almost taste it Right there, on the tip of my tongue The shape of the time The top of the pulse The weight of the world The colour of love The shape of the time The top of the pulse The weight of the world The colour of love And then I saw a creature travel on the wave A boy swam a quarry full of icy water He got cramp and he sank and he never resurfaced I see him in a dream every week or two And it takes me apart from the things I can touch The everyday wrench and the annual shrug Still over my shoulder it sees what I see Nagging my elbow like a wet sleeve Just out of reach And it's so close I can almost touch it I feel the weight in the palm of my hand It’s so real I can almost taste it Right there, on the tip of my tongue The shape of the time The top of the pulse The weight of the world The colour of love The shape of the time The top of the pulse The weight of the world The colour of love