Tekster: Six Pence None The Richer. Divine Discontent. Paralyzed.

I look out to the fields where blood is shed upon the ground
I breathe in, breathe out change the channel, mute the sound
I take a match, a cigarette and a walk to clear my head
My stomach's reeling at the thought of all those human beings dead

I breathe in, breathe out and go to do an interview
About a song three minutes long I just need something to do
Especially when my dearest friend was sent to cover Kosovo
His last assignment brought a bullet and now he is gone, he's gone

Feels like I'm fiddling while Rome is burning down
Should I lay my fiddle down, take a rifle from the ground?
I need the ghost to breathe, a northern gale tonight
'Cause I'm paralyzed, I'm paralyzed

I packed his books up, left the office went to tell the wife the news
She fell in shock, the baby kicked and shed a tear inside the womb
I breathed in, I breathed out soaked the ground up with my eyes
It's hard to say a healing word when your tongue is paralyzed

Feels like I'm fiddling while Rome is burning down
Should I lay my fiddle down, take a rifle from the ground?
I need the ghost to breathe, a northern gale tonight
'Cause I'm paralyzed, I'm paralyzed

I breathe in, I breathe out
I breathe in, I breathe out
I breathe in, I breathe out