Counting Crows Lightning
Its crazy but often clear often clear.. We shimmer and disappear In color in black and white black and white.. We slowly fade out of site but these days were lit by lightning thin lines of light Its crazy but somehow clear somehow clear we ride in silence out of fear We've spoken seem come alive come alive we prefer the silence of the blind But these days were lit by lightning thin lines of light these days were lit by lines of sharp white shock white ice hard cold white light were crazy but often kind often kind we rage in violence blind Together and then alone then alone we race in small circles home but these days were lit by lightning Thin lines of light These days were lit by lines of sharp white light these days Were lit by lightning Thin lines of light..... These days.. were lit by light