Rhythm - Page France

When you curse your name I’m a receiver

When your heart can’t change I’m a receive

Do I love like a stranger?

The world keeps getting stranger all the time

And the distance is greater

Than any rope I ever tied around your waist

To keep our tumbles in rhythm

Oh, a heart is a pocket for loose change

We scrape and we save and we wait for a raise

Did you watch as our muscles divided in rhythm?

I cursed being a man

I cursed being the driver

I let go of the wheel sometime last year

Then I sang to you in shifts

Till the mountains folded over

And your wrongs went through my wrists so you could sin

I love the world, I want to take it with me