BATTLE CRY Songtext
von Bailey Grey
BATTLE CRY Songtext
It′s a battlefield
This game I'm playing′s on a battlefield
Blown to bits in stages
And I recognize I have the tools to heal the wounds I speak of
But not the ones I dream of soon to come my way
Taught to be a maker
A creator
Anything that makes the truth seem loud
Told to be a poet
Write the words
But don't you blow it
With your overwhelming way of overthinking
Bless the crowd
And make the truth seem loud
Father, Father, Father
Can I become the author
Of my own battle cry?
Mother, Mother, Mother
I can't escape the thunder
Ask me why
I travel and I wander
Is there any other
Reason to survive?
(And the earth moves...)
It′s turning, turning, turning
And I′m
Learning, learning, learning
How to fly
It's a garden
The game I′m playing grows in a garden
I grow alongside little trees and fountains
I like the way it looks from here
Get to a place of sound
Synchronising, Butterflyzing
Roaming petals falling down to the ground
The happiest place is this one
External walls knocked over
Growing here is safe and quiet
Growing here is safe and quiet
Growing here is safe and quiet
It's what I need to make the truth seem loud
Sometimes farthest away from a crowd
Father, Father, Father
Can I become the author
Of my own battle cry?
Mother, Mother, Mother
I can′t escape the thunder
Ask me why
I wake up feeling lonely
I speak rather slowly
Searching for the perfect rhyme
Does this city really need me?
Cause nothing seems to feed me
And I'm hungry all the time
The earth shakes
Keeping up with my mistakes
I can′t fathom
I'm at random
Circling round the edges of an answer I'm afraid to find
...I can′t make up my mind
Father, Father, Father
Can I become the author
Of my own battle cry?
Mother, Mother, Mother
I can′t escape the thunder
Ask me why
I wake up feeling lonely
I speak rather slowly
Searching for the perfect rhyme
Does this city really need me?
Cause nothing seems to feed me
And I'm hungry all the time
This game I'm playing′s on a battlefield
Blown to bits in stages
And I recognize I have the tools to heal the wounds I speak of
But not the ones I dream of soon to come my way
Taught to be a maker
A creator
Anything that makes the truth seem loud
Told to be a poet
Write the words
But don't you blow it
With your overwhelming way of overthinking
Bless the crowd
And make the truth seem loud
Father, Father, Father
Can I become the author
Of my own battle cry?
Mother, Mother, Mother
I can't escape the thunder
Ask me why
I travel and I wander
Is there any other
Reason to survive?
(And the earth moves...)
It′s turning, turning, turning
And I′m
Learning, learning, learning
How to fly
It's a garden
The game I′m playing grows in a garden
I grow alongside little trees and fountains
I like the way it looks from here
Get to a place of sound
Synchronising, Butterflyzing
Roaming petals falling down to the ground
The happiest place is this one
External walls knocked over
Growing here is safe and quiet
Growing here is safe and quiet
Growing here is safe and quiet
It's what I need to make the truth seem loud
Sometimes farthest away from a crowd
Father, Father, Father
Can I become the author
Of my own battle cry?
Mother, Mother, Mother
I can′t escape the thunder
Ask me why
I wake up feeling lonely
I speak rather slowly
Searching for the perfect rhyme
Does this city really need me?
Cause nothing seems to feed me
And I'm hungry all the time
The earth shakes
Keeping up with my mistakes
I can′t fathom
I'm at random
Circling round the edges of an answer I'm afraid to find
...I can′t make up my mind
Father, Father, Father
Can I become the author
Of my own battle cry?
Mother, Mother, Mother
I can′t escape the thunder
Ask me why
I wake up feeling lonely
I speak rather slowly
Searching for the perfect rhyme
Does this city really need me?
Cause nothing seems to feed me
And I'm hungry all the time
Writer(s): Bailey Grey Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
