[That evening as the boy was climbing into bedA sadness came over himHis mother studied his faceas she pulled the blankets up under his chinShe went to his record player, pressed the buttonand the light came onThe turntable began to spin, and she lowered the needle]
Once again you're saddened and scathed
You should really see what it is like to hurt
Once you start suffering, enjoy
In the dust you start to see the colors
It's the sound we hear we make that helps us feel alright
? Sound that they make for eyes kept hurt, that boy
[The boy listened carefullyHe closed his eyesSettling into his pillows and blanketsHe closed his eyes and imagined a path]
Boy you find out you should ache, a lot
Going from life not living it's worst
It's the sound we hear we make that helps us feel alright
Sound that they make for eyes kept hurt
Sound that they make for eyes kept hurt
