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Keane
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Early Winter
You, you have a face of fashion
A style in the place of passion,
A rose in the garden.
You, you look like you really meant it
Twisting the knife in my chest,
Stamping on what's left.
But I... never was
I never... was one for crying
Never was one for tears
The map, the map of the world is on you,
The moon gravitates around you,
The seasons obey you.
But I... never was
I never... was one for crying
Never was one for tears.
And no sooner was I born
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Then I was dying
What kind of a world is this?
It's only a stone for throwing.
It looks like an early winter, alright
Looks like an early winter, alright
An early winter, alright
You turn me over
Why, why do you act so stupid?
When you know that you're always right
It looks like an early winter, alright
Looks like an early winter, alright
An early winter, alright
You turn me over, alright
It gets too much, it hurts too much
Starting over and over and over again.
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