Walking Through

If I were a betting man
Even if I had to say, well
Just an approximation
Just semantics on the wall
Well I would say
You'll have it made one day
And you will, and you will, and I know

In a dream I have
The clock strikes twelve at night
We are falling from the sky
And all around are the things they throw
All around

But if the clock strikes twelve
And you're not in the place
Then I'm lost, lost



Credits
Writer(s): Phillip Mckenna
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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