| There is no language in our lungs
|
| To tell the world just how we feel
|
| No, no, no, no, no, no bridge of thought
|
| No mental link
|
| No letting out just what you think
|
| There is no language in our lungs
|
| Lungs, lungs, lungs
|
| There is no muscle in our tongues
|
| To tell the world what’s in our hearts
|
| No, no, no, no, no, we’re leaving nothing behind
|
| Just chiseled stones
|
| No chance to speak before we’re bones
|
| There is no muscle in our tongues
|
| Tongues, tongues, tongues
|
| I thought I had the whole world in my mouth
|
| I thought I could say what I wanted to say
|
| For a second, that thought became a sword in my hand
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| I could slay any problem that would stand in my way
|
| I felt just like a crusader
|
| Lionheart, a Holy Land invader
|
| But nobody can say what they really mean to say
|
| And the impotency of speech came up and hit me that day
|
| And I would have made this instrumental
|
| But the words got in the way
|
| There is no language in our…
|
| There is no language in our lungs
|
| To tell the world what’s in our hearts
|
| No, no, no, no, no, we’re leaving nothing behind
|
| Just chiseled stones
|
| No chance to speak before we’re bones
|
| There is no language in our lungs
|
| Lungs, lungs |