A little says a lot when writing from across the world
under the cover of the air
open your letterbox each day to catch a glimpse of me
someone who's trying just to breathe
don't ask, my love, "where is it that your peace comes from?"
I found it in a disappearing world
I'm running out of time to make a sentimental plea
pass off this trivial affair
that made me motion sick to be displaced in history
and separated by a stare
don't ask, my love, "where is it that your peace comes from?"
I found it in a disappearing world
I found it in the beauty of a world
whose intentions were not as clear as they could be
whose reflection was not made to look like me
I'm running out of time to make a sentimental plea
don't ask, my love, "where is it that your peace comes from?"
I found it in a disappearing world
I found it in the beauty of a world
I found it in a disappearing world
