The Little Things
Has the future come to make a liar out of me?
Every day I wake and I'm further out to sea
High above the driving nails swirl the gardens of relief
A broken smile, a little grace, for no longer how brief
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
Now I'm off to work, on the train I only stare
There's a sleepy drum and there's corruption in the air
Only souls have been lost, desperate is as desperate does
A little push, a little shove, a little talk I give myself
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
One, two three, four
I don't live here any more
One day I'll throw myself to the life I live in dream
Where dark bouquets explode and fall the colours never seen
In the static grey today of this hopeful little scream
Songs are souvenirs for the peace that hasn't come
And if it never does better still that they be sung
Souvenirs of little hopes underground and between thieves
The boulevard is raining hard on the flood of you and me
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
Every day I wake and I'm further out to sea
High above the driving nails swirl the gardens of relief
A broken smile, a little grace, for no longer how brief
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
Now I'm off to work, on the train I only stare
There's a sleepy drum and there's corruption in the air
Only souls have been lost, desperate is as desperate does
A little push, a little shove, a little talk I give myself
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
One, two three, four
I don't live here any more
One day I'll throw myself to the life I live in dream
Where dark bouquets explode and fall the colours never seen
In the static grey today of this hopeful little scream
Songs are souvenirs for the peace that hasn't come
And if it never does better still that they be sung
Souvenirs of little hopes underground and between thieves
The boulevard is raining hard on the flood of you and me
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
The little things, the little things mean everything
Credits
Writer(s): Tim Kelly, Adam Brown, Bob Robinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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