Your melody comes down hard, like a heavy rain, like a thunderstorm.
It beats my brain to make no sense at all.
I am soaked to the bone, I am anger to inertia.
We're not in Kansas anymore.
The wind is picking up, it's picking me up off of my feet.
There's a song in the air, it's fierce and modeled and raging and rushing and suffocating.
Now I'm more myself than ever before.
Waiting for the world to open up.
I am more myself than ever before.
Tornado
We picked ourselves apart, ending up half true and torn.
We died again and again, gasping for air to be reborn.
Now I'm more myself than ever before,
Waiting for the world to open up.
I am more myself than ever before.
Tornado