(One, two, three, four)
The street beneath my feet
Is paved with rows of gold
Or so I'm told (so I'm told, so I'm told)
The sky before my eyes is never colour grey
Or so they say
I guess I've known the truth since I was pretty young
That I never knew my mother's mother tongue
I'll fake all of my words till they point out to me
The crowds of purple orchid flowers
I can't see
I'll borrow chords and play along until they shine
They're still not mine (still not mine, still not mine, still not mine)
Breathing every postcard in until they land
Still second-hand
She gave me half my bones and made me one my lungs
But the same cold air is filling both of them
Meanwhile, a crocodile points out what's left behind
The field of yellow daffodils you tried
But couldn't find
I've known since I was pretty young
I've never known my mother's mother tongue
I've known since I was pretty young
I've never known my mother's mother tongue
I'm putting on a smile made out of plasticine
And looking clean
