Five Years Of Work And We Built That Song

The idea & the execution
Our only communication left is the sentence
(But we struggle to work out what we're trying to say)

We hold our breath
And in between confusion sits and rests its head
Draws a Line: Two meanings for these words

So we sing
Our friends could be
So easily gone, families forgotten
Loves cold in our arms, so quiet now

But the slightest variations they can be enough, all in all
All in all, the smallest things can be too much
We miss you all