I can’t quite put my finger on it.
The value of what’s in my hands I guess.
I look away to see what others pick.
Can’t accept that they might pay something less.
The word on the wire is all so relative.
A reference point is nowhere to be seen.
The labels on loves are always retrofit.
Price of the night light where the slate’s wiped clean.
And we can make it from, we can shape it from our dreams.
And we can make it from, we can force it to be real.
I can’t get my head around it.
The worth of things I think’s getting confused.
As long as there is a healthy profit,
Don’t look in case you fall from the hook that keeps you balanced and true.
The sense on the street is not reliable
It’s common to meet a stranger with a plan
The rest of the globe is undeniable
The dry river beds where fresh cool water once ran.
And we can make it from, we can shape it from our dreams.
And we can make it form, we can force it to be real.
I can’t quite set the record straight.
It jumps and skips and the brittle needle breaks.
It is what we are and what we ate.
We’ve swapped the cheap handmades for expensive fakes.
And we can make it from, we can shape it from, our dreams.
And we can make it form, we can force it to be real.
And we can make it if, we can make it if we run.
Yeah we can make it through, to the starting point of one.
