Through the roof with your rate
When my teeth hit the bait
Made my body greedy, my instincts prevail
Then my leaves were removed
From the window sill
What a polar night
Made me wither and quiver and die
What did I want if not too much?
What was my thinking if not out of touch?
That every second might fall back in track
From fog and the quicksand, your limb brings me back
What a filthy, scuttling insect now moves at your feet
Then it twitches so side-lined, and hastily forgets
What it did wrong
Cause the mind is too weak, when the heartbeat peaks
So the script stays the same
In its old form and frame
What did I want if not too much?
What was my thinking if not out of touch?
That every second might fall back in track
From fog and the quicksand, your limb brings me back
What you want, comes not from spite
And what you ask for, aims not at fights
You're not my rival, not my foe
The self-reproaches, for I withhold
Such a simple thing
Nansea - Fog & Quicksand Lyrics
Nansea - Fog & Quicksand Lyrics
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Through the roof with your rate
When my teeth hit the bait
Made my body greedy, my instincts prevail
Then my leaves were removed
From the window sill
What a polar night
Made me wither and quiver and die
What did I want if not too much?
What was my thinking if not out of touch?
That every second might fall back in track
From fog and the quicksand, your limb brings me back
What a filthy, scuttling insect now moves at your feet
Then it twitches so side-lined, and hastily forgets
What it did wrong
Cause the mind is too weak, when the heartbeat peaks
So the script stays the same
In its old form and frame
What did I want if not too much?
What was my thinking if not out of touch?
That every second might fall back in track
From fog and the quicksand, your limb brings me back
What you want, comes not from spite
And what you ask for, aims not at fights
You're not my rival, not my foe
The self-reproaches, for I withhold
Such a simple thing
When my teeth hit the bait
Made my body greedy, my instincts prevail
Then my leaves were removed
From the window sill
What a polar night
Made me wither and quiver and die
What did I want if not too much?
What was my thinking if not out of touch?
That every second might fall back in track
From fog and the quicksand, your limb brings me back
What a filthy, scuttling insect now moves at your feet
Then it twitches so side-lined, and hastily forgets
What it did wrong
Cause the mind is too weak, when the heartbeat peaks
So the script stays the same
In its old form and frame
What did I want if not too much?
What was my thinking if not out of touch?
That every second might fall back in track
From fog and the quicksand, your limb brings me back
What you want, comes not from spite
And what you ask for, aims not at fights
You're not my rival, not my foe
The self-reproaches, for I withhold
Such a simple thing
Writer: Marek Polgesek
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid