He hates the desk, that is grotesqueWith all its documents
I remember yearnings, so long agoHiding in your helping hands,
No tale to tell from ancient timesIt was only yesterday
Sweet, my love, like rainThat strokes our window paneWhile inside
Out of the dreamcloud,A white eagle lands on Lisa's lifeless
It's a natural fact, it's heredityBorn in human originalityIt's a
This is the ultimate song, I feel it won't be
» More on Chandelier