Tekster: Sixpence None The Richer. Divine Discontent. Paralyzed.

I look out to the fields
where blood is shed upon the ground
I breathe in and 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, I breathe out
then go down to do an interview
about a song, three minutes long
I just need something to do
especially when your dearest friend
was sent to cover Kosovo
his last assignment brought a bullet
and now he's gone, he's gone

Chorus
feels like I'm fiddlin' 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

- Chorus -

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