- Bernard Fanning
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- Unpicking A Puzzle
Testo Unpicking A Puzzle
Testo Unpicking A Puzzle
At the bottom of the bottle, roll me in the vines
Bury me so deep, all my bones turni into wine
Where silences are golden, secrets will abound
The hostage in your conscious will have tape across his
mouth
Tell me how will you find space for my love
If you spend half of your time trying to cast it off? Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
The simple repetition of a lifetime mistake
The road to your ruin was the easiest to take
Chronic indecision and terminal delays
And ragged superstition laid your future down to waste
Tell me how will you find space for my love
If you spend half your time trying to cast it off?
Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
Where you going to run to now
Where you going to hide your pain How're you going to live this down
When you abandoned every promise you made?
At the bottom of the barrel drowning in the mire
The hostage hums the melody, the conscious is keeping time
At the bottom of the garden, tangled in the briar
God is making music, the devil is making wine
Bury me so deep, all my bones turni into wine
Where silences are golden, secrets will abound
The hostage in your conscious will have tape across his
mouth
Tell me how will you find space for my love
If you spend half of your time trying to cast it off? Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
The simple repetition of a lifetime mistake
The road to your ruin was the easiest to take
Chronic indecision and terminal delays
And ragged superstition laid your future down to waste
Tell me how will you find space for my love
If you spend half your time trying to cast it off?
Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
Unpicking a puzzle that can't be undone
Where you going to run to now
Where you going to hide your pain How're you going to live this down
When you abandoned every promise you made?
At the bottom of the barrel drowning in the mire
The hostage hums the melody, the conscious is keeping time
At the bottom of the garden, tangled in the briar
God is making music, the devil is making wine
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