Romans Songtext
von Sundays

All of these sycamore trees
Rising high over me
Growing slower than bones
Knowing all they should know
Well, time will be, time will tell
If they leap where they fell
I guess the Romans would say
Nothing will grow in one day
All the best things you see
They don′t come effortlessly
So put your back into what's
Keeping you locked and shut

Well my heart is like a drum skin
I beat it every time I feel alone
But every time the song ends
I wake up to the silence of my soul


Please be my fountain of sighs
Be my mountain to climb
Be my tower to hold
All my power, my throne
I′ll be your echo to keep
Be your meadow to weep

Well my heart is like a drum skin
I beat it every time I feel alone
But every time the song ends
I wake up to the silence of my soul
If you keep marching for that something
That no one ever really could control
It's a monument to longing
And what goes around, it comes around, you know

You can shade the light and never shine at all
You can break a leg and never take the fall
You can change your ways for all to see
Or raise yourself eternally
The night is young, the fire's burning tight


Well my heart is like a drum skin
I beat it every time I feel alone
But every time the song ends
I wake up to the silence of my soul
If you keep marching for that something
That no one ever really could control
It′s a monument to longing
And what goes around, it comes around, you know