It’s the symphony distorting, when were not talking, 
but its not Heaven, without you.
There’s just something different, 
with the air about you, 
the signs, the shapes, the numbers, 
none of them give me a clue
You can have it all
and im not Burning Benches cos the ash would make me choke
It was me who always spluttered every time we spoke, you can have it all