Texty: Tori Amos. Concertina.

Clouds descending... I'm not policing what you think and dream.
I run into your thought from cross the room.
Just another trick... can I weather this?
I've got a fever above my waist, you got a squeezebox on your knee.
I know the truth is in between the 1st and the 40th drink...

Concertina, concertina, a chill that bends.
This I swear, you're the fiercest calm I've been in.
Concertina, concertina, try infrared.
This I swear, you're the fiercest calm... I've been in...


The soul-quake happened here in a glass world.
Particle by particle she slowly changes.
She likes hanging Chinese paper cuts.
Just another fix... can I weather this?
I got my fuzz all tipped to play. I got a dub on your landscape.
Then there's your policy of trancing the sauce without the blame...


Concertina, concertina, a chill that bends.
This I swear, you're the fiercest calm I've been in...
Concertina, concertina, try infrared.
This I swear, you're the fiercest calm... I've been in...


Too far... Too far... Too far...
It could all get away, too cheerful, no no no.
I've got a fever above my waist, you got a squeezebox on your knee.
I know the truth lies between the 1st and the 40th drink...


Concertina, concertina, a chill that bends.
This I swear, you're the fiercest calm I've been in...
Concertina, concertina, try infrared.
This I swear, you're the fiercest calm... I've been in...
Clouds descending...