Thought We Could Make It Songtext
von Jon Fuller

A ripped open brown paper bag
A question still hung on a breath
A weary and white waving flag
A silence as welcome as death

A painting on a wall, a mockery
A monument to what we couldn′t see

I thought we could make it
Still thought we could make it
I thought we could make it
Still thought we could make it


An ocean of hard-won regret
A paradise left with no trace
A night I would rather forget
A frozen and tear-tortured face

An empty room, a hand no longer held
An ancient oak by lightning swiftly felled

I thought we could make it
Still thought we could make it
I thought we could make it
Still thought we could make it

I thought we could make it
Still thought we could make it
I thought we could make it
Still thought we could make it