I’m perfectly adjusted
To life inside this land
I’m baking pies with drunken eyes
Shaking with winter’s hands
Do you believe me now?
What do you believe?
I thought this would be easy
I don’t need to know why
This would not be simple with you
Running from the windows
Hiding
Someone light a fire
The chaplain’s never trusted
Returning from the fields
The secret lights
The crooks at night
Who teach us how to steal
I am divided
Everyone knows
I won’t have to go
©Copyright Secret Life of Painters
Words & music by Hofmann / Kiley