BUSCA

I'm sitting in the concrete

I'm listening for a heartbeat

I'm sitting in the painting

I promised I'd be waiting

I'm sitting in the window

I'm listening to the wind blow

I'm sitting in an hour glass

I'm waiting for the march past



I'm sitting in the doorway

I'm wishing for a new day

I'm choking in the landscape

I'm cutting through the red tape

I'm sitting in the concrete

I'm listening for a heartbeat



And the joke has crossed the line

And the final word is mine

And the mist has touched the wood

And the words are understood

And the sand has drifted high

And the blind man gave a cry

And the swallows dance above the sun

And the swallows dance above the sun

Yeah



I'm sitting on the ceiling

I had to know the feeling

I'm sitting in the shelter

I'm going down helter skelter

I'm sitting in the concrete

I'm listening for a heartbeat



Every time I turn around

There's another face watching me

Every time I turn around

There's another voice calling me

Every time I turn around

There's another fool reading me

Every time I turn around

There's another silence drowning me

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