I'm sitting in the concrete I'm listening for a heartbeat I'm sitting in the painting I promised I'd be waiting I'm sitting in the window I'm listening to the wind blow I'm sitting in an hour glass I'm waiting for the march past I'm sitting in the doorway I'm wishing for a new day I'm choking in the landscape I'm cutting through the red tape I'm sitting in the concrete I'm listening for a heartbeat And the joke has crossed the line And the final word is mine And the mist has touched the wood And the words are understood And the sand has drifted high And the blind man gave a cry And the swallows dance above the sun And the swallows dance above the sun Yeah I'm sitting on the ceiling I had to know the feeling I'm sitting in the shelter I'm going down helter skelter I'm sitting in the concrete I'm listening for a heartbeat Every time I turn around There's another face watching me Every time I turn around There's another voice calling me Every time I turn around There's another fool reading me Every time I turn around There's another silence drowning me
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