Tone
I spy with my little tired eye tiny as a firefly
A pebble that we picked up last July
Down deep inside your pocket we almost forgot it
Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes? Ooh …
They said the end is coming Everyone’s up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside they’re push and shoving you’re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
On the way home I wrote a poem You say, “what a mind”
This happens all the time Ooh …
Cause they said the end is coming Everyone’s up to something
I find myself running home to your Sweet nothings
Outside they’re push and shoving You’re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was… nothing
Industry disrupters and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore “You should be doing more”
To you I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it
Ooh …
They said the end is coming Everyone’s up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside they’re push and shoving you’re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing